The ThirtySix Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé
by Mussimm
Summary: "They want us gone now, before we get too powerful for them to kill. I say they've waited too long. I say we have that power now." The war has begun. ME3!Spec!fic. Shrios.
1. Chapter 1

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 1**

**Kill With A Borrowed Knife**

**

* * *

**

The news filtered through the Citadel piece by piece.

The Alliance channels lit up, files and footage, the Omega 4 relay had been activated. Kaidan had watched that footage a hundred times, listening to Joker's voice, clinical, professional. Like it was any other relay, just a routine jump. No one had ever come back from that jump.

But they had come back; the vibrant mockery of the _Normandy_ had jumped back not twelve hours later, accompanied by an even greater wave of chatter from all official channels. Something twisted inside him to see that Cerberus logo emblazoned on the victorious ship. Something twisted harder knowing that Shepard would live to tell the tale.

After that came the C-Sec reports, the _Normandy_ SR_-2_ requesting docking permission at the Citadel. Kaidan had been there for nearly a month. Waiting, he suspected, to be used as bait again, though for Shepard or the Collectors he couldn't be sure. No one could figure out if the ship should be allowed to dock, but after a long debate they could find no solid reason to deny the request, and the Cerberus crew were allowed onto the station.

How Emily Wong had known they were coming remained a mystery, but the cameras were there the instant the _Normandy_ opened her airlock, and streamed live to every office in the Citadel.

The twisting, wrenching feeling in Kaidan's gut seemed to wind in on itself. The Commander Shepard who lived in his dreams, haunted his memory, was clean cut and almost prim. The only outward sign of her profession was her perfect military posture, and, of course, the thin scars that wound down her face, through her lips. She walked in his mind accompanied by Alliance soldiers as clean and pretty as herself.

The woman who set foot on the docks was not the same. Like the _Normandy_, the basic structure was intact but the integrity was compromised. A neat, regulation hairstyle was now untied, letting her wild hair fall over her shoulders. Wide eyes that had once been simply alert and attentive were now wary, darting over her surroundings, analysing. The height that had made her imposing in N7 armour now just seemed willowy, maybe even lanky. The last few years had been hard on her, that much was obvious.

She wasn't accompanied by Alliance soldiers anymore. Tali and Garrus were the only familiar faces he could see. Some of her crew looked outright psychotic and only a handful looked anywhere near professional.

He watched the security feed for too long, switching between the feed and his own work, each new oddity arriving and departing showed him exactly how separated he had become from her life. She shook hands with a young drell at C-Sec, someone he didn't recognise, then clapped Bailey on the shoulder with familiarity and friendship that had never existed before.

The _Normandy_ was busy, people coming and going, but Shepard was nowhere to be seen for hours. He saw a few of the crew on the C-Sec feed. An older drell met up with the younger at Bailey's office. It took all of an hour for an inked up waif to get arrested for assault and be bailed out by Garrus. Several women carried paper bags onto the ship, shopping sprees that were probably long overdue.

Kaidan was so engrossed that he almost missed the buzz of his omni-tool. A message from Shepard.

_I'm on Citadel. Can we talk?_

That sounded ominous. He stared at the message for a long moment, every conflicting emotion he'd felt on Horizon welling up in his chest again. There were still no clear boundaries between them, she still unapologetically wore Cerberus sweats. No, he couldn't do this, not right now. Once she'd talked to Anderson, once she was reinstated to the Alliance, they'd be on even ground, they could talk as equals.

_Not today, Shepard._

He sent the message and closed his omni-tool, then the security feed. He had to stop obsessing over this or it would be too easy to slip back into the depression he'd felt over her 'death'.

It was several hours later that the _Normandy_ SR-2 departed the Citadel. She hadn't gone to see Anderson. She hadn't even asked to be reinstated. Kaidan opened up his omni-tool late in the evening to see one unread message that had been sent just seconds after his had been received.

_Please._

_

* * *

_

Shepard looked at herself in the mirror.

A bubble of laughter escaped her lips and she turned to stare dubiously at the women who lounged on her sofa. Every female member of her crew sat in her quarters, helping her 'be a girl' as Tali put it.

"I feel like a fool," she declared.

Kasumi raised one derisive eyebrow. "That's because you're used to being a cross dresser."

"Wearing armour is not cross dressing."

"The only dress you own is one I gave you," the thief said.

Shepard smoothed down the floor length gown. At least the last dress had been black, so she could pretend to be a spy or something. This one left nothing to chance, she looked like a princess, all flowing silk and braided hair. She wasn't letting them dress her up for no good reason, it was an extremely important night on the _Normandy_.

"I can't believe I'm taking clothing advice from four women who wear catsuits and one who wears tattoos."

"Neither can I," said Jack.

"You look beautiful, Shepard," Samara said. Her voice was soothing and authoritative as always, making her sound absolutely, undeniably right in whatever she said. Shepard took it with a grain of salt – her catsuit was the worst of the lot.

"Wonderful, now I can get a date to the prom. I should wear my uniform. That makes me look professional, at least."

"Which uniform, exactly?" Kasumi asked. "The one from the Alliance who aren't supporting you, or the one from the pro-human extremists who aren't supporting you?"

"Shepard, are you being shy?" Tali said.

Shepard frowned. That was designed to bait her, turn it into a challenge and force her to respond that if she could take on a Reaper she could most certainly take on a dress. Sometimes Tali knew her a little too well. At least she wasn't suffering alone in this, all five women were zipped into the most unadorned, conservative versions of their normal outfits, looking like proper soldiers instead of lap dancers for a change. The men would be in 'uniform' as well. So they could all feel like fools together.

"I am not shy, just concerned. I'm supposed to be inspiring confidence tonight, not laughter," she said.

Samara stood and slunk over to her, adjusting her hair. "Perhaps you don't realise how a human can look to other species. Even in armour you seem soft, fragile to us. Appearing without any protection is a great show of self-confidence."

"She's right, Shepard," said Tali. "If you need to wear armour on your own ship they won't believe in you."

The room was lit with a white glow as EDI appeared. "The first shuttle has arrived, Shepard."

"Thank you, EDI. Send Garrus up when the last one gets here."

"Of course. Logging you out, Shepard."

Shepard turned to her team, who were already prying themselves off the couches one by one and heading for the elevator. She swallowed the lump in her throat. The bickering had distracted her for a while from what she was about to do.

The elevator closed and she was alone.

She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath, settling in for a meditative session to stave off the panic attack. She could do this. She could do this. This wasn't the time to be doubting herself. She had the facts behind her, she had the resources, she even had something very close to proof. Maybe it was idealistic of her, but she believed that having the truth on her side was as powerful a weapon as her thannix cannon.

Breathe in, breathe out. Don't panic.

She concentrated on her breathing, ignoring the reality of her situation until she heard the door open. She had almost fallen asleep.

Garrus gave her a smile and offered his arm. "Looking good, Shepard."

"You're just saying that." She took his arm and he led her to the elevator.

"You're right. Do you really think blue's your colour?"

She frowned. "Samara said it brings out my eyes."

Garrus stopped before they reached the elevator, giving her a bemused stare. "I'm joking, Shepard. You look great for a human. You're really that nervous about tonight?"

"Yeah, I am."

He dropped her arm and stepped back, forcing her to face him. His mandibles flared. He thought she was being foolish. Still, it was an affectionate smile that graced his face, and her took her face in one hand, pressing his forehead against hers, lending her some of his strength.

"Shepard, you're one of a kind. If you can't do this, then none of us ever stood a chance to begin with."

She jerked her head against his in a nod. "Thanks, Garrus. Let's go raise an army."

The doors opened and he led her into the elevator. The ride was blessedly quick, not giving her time to rebuild her insecurities, and they stepped out into the crew deck.

The refitting of this deck had cost her almost every credit she'd scavenged. Admittedly most of the refit was holographic and would be stripped down and sold for parts after tonight was over. Samara and Kasumi were a little put out at having to strip and vacate the observation decks, but they understood. For tonight the arrangement was actually kind of classy, and she was grateful, because her current guests wouldn't accept anything less.

"Shepard," Wrex greeted her and shook her hand. "You look like a female."

"I am a female, Wrex," she replied, working to keep her posture and grace, not slipping back into the mask of the boisterous soldier. "Glad you could make it."

She would have liked to stop and talk to him for the next few hours, but there were a lot of people to greet, so she continued into the main hall, regularly known as the mess. It was busy, most of the people she recognised, but it was the ones that she didn't who would need the most attention. Aria T'Loak was leading the drinking, joined by patriarch, utterly uninterested in greeting her host. A couple of the hanar had actually shown up, she made a mental note to thank Thane until she was blue in the face.

Two quarians ambushed her before she could go much further. "Captain Shepard."

"Admirals," she inclined her head. "How are you this evening?"

"We would be better without an AI watching over us," one replied, then looked over his shoulder to where Legion stood, armed and alert. "Or a geth. You have some gall, Shepard."

"I do. I assure you both that neither EDI's nor Legion's allegiance is preprogrammed, they are as much a part of my crew as any organic." She smiled as sweetly as she could. Legion noticed the attention he was receiving and waved in his usual, adorable manner. Shepard waved back. "Please feel free to speak to them as you would anyone else aboard."

"I just hope you dragged us here for good reason," one growled, ignoring her thinly veiled threat.

Shepard tried to keep her smile, but it didn't feel sincere anymore. "I will be addressing everyone on board later in the evening. Enjoy yourselves, Admirals, this might be your last chance to relax for a very long time."

She bowed out of the conversation and grimaced at Garrus.

He chuckled. "You're going to have a lot of fun tonight, Shepard."

"Go be a guard," she growled, just restraining herself from sticking out her tongue at him. "And make sure if the quarians interrogate Legion it at least doesn't involve thumb screws."

He saluted, just the barest hint of mockery in the gesture, and made to be a guard for the night. Most of the crew were on guard duty. She didn't really expect anyone to start trouble, and her crew certainly didn't need to be armed to deal with them, it was more of a chest-pounding 'these are my guards, imagine my soldiers' deal. Some crew were assigned as peace makers, the ones she could trust to keep their mouths under control.

Shepard scanned the crowd, trying to pick out someone strategic to approach. Liara was deeply engrossed in conversation with the raloi ambassador. The elcor general whose name escaped her just now was talking to a hanar, a conversation she wouldn't enter into even if it would save the galaxy. Talk about an unforgettable fourteen hour experience. There were a surprising amount of asari present, including several matriarchs. Mother of God, was that Jona Sederis? Who had talked the founder of Eclipse onto her ship?

The Council had, to the man, turned down her invitation, but then she'd only really sent it out of courtesy. Garrus' words to her back on the original _Normandy_ had preyed on her mind. He wanted to know if the Council was being half-hearted in their attempts to bring Saren to justice, unnecessarily dense about the issue of Reapers. She was beginning to suspect that the Citadel itself had some indoctrinating qualities. It was Reaper tech, after all, and the Council had been exposed to it for a very long time.

"Shepard." A hand unexpectedly slid into the crook of her elbow and she very nearly threw a punch before remembering where she was.

Thane fell in beside her, and she let out a huff. "You scared me."

"I apologise. You looked lost, not a suitable appearance for a host." He gently guided her forward, their slight movement giving the impression of deep conversation. "The rest of your appearance is... very suitable."

Drell compliments. Less than epic, but she appreciated the thought. Coming from him he may as well have dropped to his knees and begun a rendition of 'The Way You Look Tonight'.

"I bet you say that to all the girls. How did you talk the hanar into this?"

"I worked for a well respected family on Kahje. They were willing to listen to me, and convince the Illuminated Primacy to hear you out. How they will respond to your proposal remains to be seen, they are protective of their client races."

"Protective enough to save them, I hope. Thank you for getting them here, it's more than I should have asked of you."

Glassy black eyes stared back at her, observing, inscrutable. "You can ask anything of me, Shepard. I would not deny you."

"Oh." She hoped that not many of the species here recognised a blush, because she could feel her face growing furiously hot. "Let's... uh... would you introduce me to the hanar?"

He smiled slightly and led her to where one of the hanar floated. He bowed his head and she mimicked the gesture, knowing how easily offended this species could be. One wrong move and she'd be considered an egotistical jerkass for all time. Thane gave her elbow a reassuring squeeze as if he could sense her nerves.

"Commander Shepard, this is Ambassador Ranamen of the Illuminated Primacy. Ambassador, allow me to introduce the captain of this vessel and our host, Commander Shepard."

"This one greets you," the hanar said, its body glowing brilliantly with speech.

"It's an honour to have you aboard the ship, Ambassador Ranamen." She measured each word carefully, trying not to refer to herself in any way. "Your presence is unexpected, but appreciated."

"This one is troubled by hearsay. It has received the disquieting information from reliable sources. It will listen to you."

"The hanar concerns embody much of the information that will be presented this evening, and a lot will be of particular interest to your species. You must be aware of the previously undiscovered information on the Enkindlers that this crew has worked with."

"This one would be interested in speaking at length on the subject when fears of the Collectors are no longer present."

"Thank you for your time, Ambassador. Your concerns will be addressed in due time, please enjoy the party until then."

She bowed again, followed by Thane, and retreated as fast as she could without appearing impolite.

Dragging Thane behind her, she ducked into a dark corner that wasn't already occupied and let out a gurgle of laughter, her nerves standing on end. She'd managed to not mortally offend a hanar ambassador on the first meeting. If drell were laughers she was sure her companion would be laughing with her. Instead a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes.

He looked almost proud of her, if such an expression was in his repertoire.

"I didn't offend the ambassador," she said.

"I noticed. When do you plan to begin the address?"

"A few more minutes. I want everyone on their third drink, we're about done with the first now. If I soften them up with a networking opportunity they'll be more receptive."

She let Thane go and continued circulating. Liara gave her a hug and she had to continue, finding more and more that she was looking forward to the address so that she would have time to really talk with people. Some she could drop in on any time for a friendly or less than friendly chat, some had come from the far reaches of charted space to attend, taking time from their incredibly busy schedules.

It was more than a little overwhelming. Outside the Council, the most powerful people in the galaxy were here, themselves or by representative. And she was about to yell at them. Shepard grimaced and took a drink from Chambers at the bar, downing it in one. Dutch courage would be the only thing to get her through this night. God bless industrial strength synthetic livers.

She counted out her time estimate by the amount Liara drank. By her third Aria would be blind and Xeltan would be starting his first, the rest of the guests somewhere in the middle. Liara caught her staring at the same time she caught herself, watching the last drops of time slip through the asari's lips. She gave the Shadow Broker an embarrassed and apologetic smile, then headed to the stairs by the battery, where she'd be speaking.

Shepard gave EDI the signal and the lights dimmed for a few seconds before bringing them back up, effectively getting everyone's attention. The chatter died down and her crew took their places at the sidelines, ready to be guards if things went badly.

The eyes of everyone who commanded authority in the galaxy landed squarely on Shepard. She felt her throat close up for half a second, then squared her shoulders.

"Good evening, everyone. I'm sure you all knew I'd be shaking you down at some point this evening." A slight chuckle from the crowd eased her nerves, and she continued. "The _Normandy_ is honoured tonight. Some of you know each other, a lot of you don't, most are wondering why no one has tried to kill you yet. We have among us politicians and criminals, royalty, extinct species, kingpins, gang leaders, genetic anomalies, artificial intelligences, and that's just my crew."

Another laugh, and she knew the ice was broken, it was time to get serious.

"For some of you, the story I tell is just beginning, some of you want to know how bad it's getting. That's why I've asked you all here tonight. Most of you I met down the barrel of a shotgun, and I know some of you can see a mortal enemy across the room. Mine are here, as well. I'm here to tell you that the time to set aside our differences has arrived."

She stepped down one stair, leaving the blank wall behind her – the hologram of a blank wall behind her – in full view of the room. EDI took her cue and the image of white stucco changed. A gasp echoed around the crowd. The might of the Reaper fleet stared down at them.

"This image comes from a geth observation post, the only post in this galaxy that monitors dark space, and it is the most recent picture we have of the Reapers. For those of you unfamiliar with the physics of these monitoring stations, this was the Reaper fleet around fifty thousand years ago, fresh from their victory over the Protheans."

The image changed behind her, to that of the collector base in the shadow of a black hole, and it would keep changing as she spoke, every image they'd collected that could be seen nowhere else. She kept talking, allowing the pictures to back her up, force people to accept that there were things out there they hadn't seen. She even had Aria and Wrex interested at this point.

"Eight hundred and sixty two Reapers is our best estimate. It took the entirety of the council fleet to defeat one. Each of you will find, upon your return to your various home worlds, that there is an information packet waiting for you. Everything we know about the Reapers is contained within. From specifications to personal accounts, every scrap of information that may give us a fighting chance has been given to all of you.

"They are coming. We thwarted them at the Citadel, we thwarted them through the Omega relay, but it wasn't enough. Right now the Reapers are finding another way. Many of you have hailed us as heroes, but all we have done is delay the inevitable. These are machines, they don't get discouraged, suffer no low morale. They can't be distracted or diverted, anything we do short of killing them is just borrowing time.

"The Protheans were more advanced than any species here, they fought with everything they had, and they lost. They didn't just lose, they were enslaved, genetically modified, violated, turned into monsters to do the Reapers' dirty work on the next generation. Reapers take no prisoners. They don't negotiate. They make no distinction between saint and sinner."

A morbid silence had descended over the room. Shepard stayed silent for a long moment to let the information sink, in the image behind her kept changing. The Collector DNA strand versus the Prothean. The derelict Reaper. The horrors of Ilos. Sovereign on the Citadel. The Collector pods and swarms.

"I make no threats, but I make you this promise. The Reapers want us gone. Not just us, not just the Citadel and the Council. Every man, woman and child, of every species, on every planet. Even if they have no interest in your species, they will not leave behind witnesses to warn the people who come after us. We become the next Protheans, just artefacts for the next generation to scrounge through when the Reapers come for them.

"The Protheans were more advanced than us, and they lost, but they left behind enough to prevent us from meeting their fate. Sovereign was defeated at the Citadel, and he was the first of three Reapers I have killed, along with my team. You can see that team around you, the people who have already saved you without you even realising it. Quarian and geth. Mercenary and vigilante. Assassin and justicar.

"This is your vanguard. We stand against them, even if it costs our lives. Everyone here has something they can contribute to this war, and it is a war. There is no resource, no skill, that we can't use. You can contribute, you can help us stop this. The _Normandy_ stands ready to fight. If the army behind us isn't big enough then all hope, for everyone, is lost."

She took a deep breath, the image of the human Reaper, recorded by her own visor, hanging above her menacingly. She met the eyes of the people she trusted, seeing comprehension.

"They want us gone now, before we get too powerful for them to kill. I say they've waited too long. I say we have that power now. And I hope you all prove me right.

"Please be generous. The very existence of your species depends upon it."

Shepard stepped down from the stairs, greeted only by silence.

That was around the time that the drinking really began.

* * *

_It's a long shot,_

_She's got the truth and a tongue for a slingshot,_

_But she's taking steady aim at the big shots._

"_Comin' Up From Behind" - Marcy Playground_


	2. Chapter 2

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 2**

**Make the Guest and Host Exchange Roles **

**

* * *

**

The crew of the _Normandy_ sat slouched on the floor of the converted mess, a truly heroic number of bottles scattered around them. Shepard lay with Liara in the centre of the mess, staring at the ceiling. Time was a strange thing in space, but it felt like about 5am. Those diplomats could really put away the drinks when they were stressed.

The commander felt like crying with relief. They hadn't actually achieved anything yet, everyone wary and confused, but she had expected as much. She'd probably be in talks for the rest of her life as people tried to negotiate their positions. She knew it was foolish of her, but after so many rebuffs from the Council she had half expected every last person in that room to tell her she was crazy, delusional. After so long she'd half convinced herself they were right. Having a whole room full of powerful, authoritative people genuinely believe her had been a panacea she didn't know she needed.

Liara grasped her hand, her eyes hooded with inebriation. "You're going to win this, Shepard."

"I know," she said.

"Then... then the Council... they'll be mad."

Shepard laughed. "They're already mad. Wait until they see what I'm going to do to council space."

"What are you going to do to council space?"

She fell into giggles. "You don't already know? I've got a secret that the Shadow Broker doesn't know."

Liara scowled at her and poked her ribs, only making her laugh harder. Shepard slapped at the asari's tickling hands, grabbing at her wrists but too drunk to put up a true defence, ending up rolling over to half-smother her friend and pin her hands to the floor. They laughed together, shaking in each other's arms and relaxing back in a comfortable embrace.

"Shepard, I'm honoured to know you. No one else could have talked all those people into believing this. You do things that no one should be able to do."

"Don't get all mushy on me, Liara." Shepard nuzzled into her neck, closing her eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over her. "You're drunk."

"Speaking of mushy..." Liara's voice dropped to a whisper and cast her gaze about the room, making sure no one was listening to them. "Tell me about Thane."

Shepard closed her eyes, her friend's pulse throbbing in her ear through soft blue skin. "It's not polite to spy on your friends, Broker."

"I don't have to set up a spy network to see you two slipping away into dark corners, or see you turn that delightful shade of pink when you're alone with him. You're not as subtle as you think you are. You only let Garrus and I touch you for more than a handshake, yet you were on his arm half the night."

"And Kaidan."

"Hmm?"

"Kaidan can touch me for more than a handshake."

There was a moment of silence, the only disturbance warm breath in her hair. Ah, so Liara thought she was an idiot. Maybe she was right.

"I didn't think that you were still in contact with him."

"I'm not, I guess, but I'm not giving up on him. I died, then joined up with our mortal enemies, he has the right to be angry. Love comes with a lot of doubts and insecurities, I owe him some understanding."

"And Thane?"

Shepard smiled sadly. "That's a story with a very sad ending. One I know too well. Doesn't matter, anyway, since we're all probably going to die very soon."

"That's exactly why it does matter. You deserve some comfort, Shepard. The coming months will test even your resolve, you need some solidarity."

"That's what I have you for." The two women pulled closer together. "You'll stay safe, won't you? Even if we fail, the Reapers won't find you on Hagalaz. You have to promise me you won't be a hero. If we fail you have to save yourself."

"The time for hiding is long past. As I'll be your main sponsor, my agents will be your soldiers, this war will be as much mine as yours. If you fall, so do we all."

"You're going to be my main sponsor? That's an expensive project."

Liara laughed, a high, tinkling sound. "Shepard, you just made inroads into every organisation in the Terminus. If we survive this, with you as my agent, I'm going to be an offensively rich woman."

"An agent of the Shadow Broker, hey? I like the sound of that. Agent Shepard."

"Captain Shepard. Admiral Shepard. Admiral of the United Organic Fleet."

"Can't be organic, we have geth. Princess Shepard of the Milky Way."

"Grand Chancellor Shepard of the Sapients Opposed to Reapers movement."

"Illuminated Councillor Shepard."

"Matriarch Shepard."

"Siha Shepard."

"I'm not familiar with that one."

Shepard groaned quietly, realising too late that her explanation would be highly incriminating. "I don't know what it means, either. It's what Thane calls me, so I assume it's poetic and appropriate. Don't start."

"I'm offended that you think I would start something," Liara said, and Shepard could feel her grin in her hair. "I would never dream of mocking you for holding dearly to the pet name of someone you insist you aren't attracted to. What could I possibly find in that to talk about?"

"Everyone's a comedian."

"Only around such an easy mark."

"So, if you're going to be my commander, does that mean I have to put up with your matchmaking?"

"No, but I am planning some intriguing uniforms. I'm thinking... asari dancer crossed with asari commando."

"Samara will love it."

They fell silent, comfortable in each others' embrace, and Shepard thought she might fall asleep right there on the floor. Liara was so warm and she was starting to feel a little nauseous from all the alcohol. She wasn't sure she wanted to know how or why Kasumi had arranged ryncol for the night. Or how Aria had ever made it back to the shuttle with half a bottle in her system.

For the first time she was really beginning to believe they could do this. Some people had been hesitant, maybe thinking they could run, hide or negotiate, but the data package she'd sent each one would hopefully dismiss those ideas. She was sure she'd lose a few, probably some of the more respectable types who were easily influenced by the Council. That was alright.

A few matriarchs, the rachni queen, Wrex, either the quarians or the geth, and they'd at least have a fighting chance. She already had three of five, she was certain. Surprisingly it wasn't soldiers that she was short on. Labourers, small ships, mining interests, that was what she needed. Shepard nearly laughed. This wasn't exactly what she had trained for.

"This galaxy is going to burn, Liara."

"I know it is. You should go to bed, you're falling asleep on the floor."

"Don't think I can stand up."

Liara let her go and rolled over, facing some of the less intoxicated crew members. Shepard knew what she was about to do but her reflexes had slowed too much to intervene.

"Mr. Krios?" Liara asked, drawing Thane's attention. "I think Shepard needs an escort to see her safely to her cabin. Would you oblige?"

"Of course."

Shepard sat up, supporting her weight heavily on her arms, and tried to arrange her knees underneath her to have some hope of eventually getting vertical. It was an tricky task of protesting joints and a constantly shifting centre of gravity. She eventually managed to climb to her knees, fumbling with her hands to keep herself upright.

About to protest this extremely rude objection to her plan of sleeping on the floor, she looked up, only to find a hand offered, just inches from her face. The words died in her throat and she met eyes with Thane. He was smiling, as much as he ever smiled, glassy eyes sparkling with amusement. Against her will she felt a smile spread across her own face.

His hand was cool to the touch, blessedly so considering the alcohol fuelled fever she was running. She had to fight a sudden mad desire to press his palm against her forehead to cool her down. She stumbled to her feet and he caught her, her shoulder catching him in the sternum.

She immediately sobered, pressing a hand against his chest, meeting his eyes. If she'd drunkenly hurt his lungs she'd have to kick her own ass. He took a sharp breath, momentarily stilling, but recovered and took her by the elbow.

"You need sleep, siha."

"I do," she agreed, then called over her shoulder. "Night, Liara. We're going to have words when I'm sober."

"I'm sure," Liara said.

Shepard staggered to the elevator, Thane just barely keeping her stable. She really should have ditched the shoes before attempting this. He was watching her out of the corner of his eye, clearly amused by her state. It wasn't every day she indulged like this, and he was probably enjoying the novelty.

She waved goodnight to the crew, most of them ignoring her in favour of their own inebriated reflections. It was good to see them all so relaxed, they wouldn't get another chance for a long time.

The elevator opened and as she stepped inside her heel caught on the seam in the floor, it would have sent her sprawling if Thane's reflexes weren't lightning fast. An arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her, and she gave up the pretence of maintaining a professional distance, slumping against his chest and letting him hold her up.

"You seem very close with Dr. T'Soni," he said.

She almost laughed. She'd had this conversation before, although Kaidan had been much more direct about it. "Liara's precious to me, I couldn't ask for a better friend."

"Perhaps one with more upper body strength."

"You're enjoying this," she murmured into his chest.

"I haven't seen you so relaxed in a long time. Humans are entertaining when they drink."

"I bet drell are, too, you're just too stoic and mysterious to get drunk around us."

There was a rumble in his chest that she had learned to equate with a laugh. "Stoic and mysterious? Should I be flattered or insulted?"

"You're stoic, I'm suitable, we make a very acceptable pair."

"You're mocking me."

"Yes I am."

The doors slid open and she was forced to use her legs again, this time taking a very careful step over the threshold. Thane's hand was still cool against her side, she could feel every scale through the thin silk of her dress. He was the perfect gentleman, even in her current state he didn't move his fingers an inch too low, just supporting her.

"I offended you earlier."

She smiled. "No. No, don't think that. If you were human it would have been offensive. You're very conservative by our standards, I find it endearing. I know when you say something flowery you really mean it."

She leaned against the bulkhead outside her door, the chilled metal offering instant relief of her fever. A deep sigh escaped her chest.

"I don't drink because alcohol encourages transparency. Intoxicated people tend to tell the truth."

"See? Stoic and mysterious." She laughed, but the intensity in his eyes caught it in her throat. He moved a step closer to her.

"Do you think we'll win against the Reapers, Shepard?"

Oh, so this was his game. "Taking advantage of me, Thane?"

"Yes."

"I don't know. If everyone tonight gives everything they can, then maybe. If a few of the more militaristic leaders lend support, and we get lucky, then maybe. I do know that we're not going down without a fight. I know that we're going to put the fear of God into the Reapers. And I know that if they win, it's going to be the last time they win. The Protheans gave us a head start. We'll give the next generation a better one."

He stared at her and she felt her face heat up under his gaze. "Is that enough for you?"

"It is. Is it enough for you to follow me?"

"More than enough. When you asked me to come with you to the galactic core I thought we'd never return. Yet here we are. Your word is enough for me. But I'm following, not leading. You would give your last months of life, your last earthly pleasures, to a cause that may amount to an excessively complex warning beacon?"

"One way or another we're going to beat them. I'd give anything. If you trust my word, trust it now."

Thane stepped back, his interrogation apparently over. The disquieted look on his face made her stomach twist. There was no one more loyal, except maybe Garrus. If Thane was doubting her she'd lose her nerve.

Black eyes pinned her to the wall. "It's an honour to know you, Shepard, and an honour to serve you."

"I'm getting that a lot tonight."

"I'll leave you to your rest," he said, then turned and made to go to the elevator. The doors opened and he paused, looking back over his shoulder. "You're beautiful, siha. I should have said so earlier."

Shepard felt her entire body flush, her internal temperature seemed to sky-rocket. He was gone, the doors closing behind him, but she didn't move from her place. She felt her mouth pull up in a smile she couldn't contain.

It took her a few moments to pull herself together. Crashing through the doorway she threw herself onto her bed, not bothering to get undressed.

* * *

_I'm this city's sweet holy thunder,_

_I'm the gold of the drug you've been under._

"_Independent Thief" - Kathleen Edwards_


	3. Chapter 3

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 3**

**Point At the Mulberry Tree While Cursing the Locust Tree**

* * *

"No, no, no, I don't care." Shepard stormed through the communications room, cursing through her radio. "If the quarians want to go making demands, tell them to make it worth my while. They offer nothing, they get nothing in return. We have the geth, and we're not going to undermine our position with the hanar to get more of the same specialists. Fine, I'll deal with it later."

Her omni-tool beeped as she closed it, losing the communication. Miranda pressed a datapad into her hand and she groaned loudly. "Just tell me we're almost at Tuchanka. And that there's more coffee."

"We are, and there is."

"Any news?"

Miranda leaned back against the console, her arms crossed. "Dr. T'Soni has sent a dossier she thinks you might be interested in, a turian admiral from the First Contact War. Aria T'Loak would like a personal meeting to discuss terms of an arrangement. The hanar ambassador wants Kahje listed as their defence priority. Oh, and I think Jack and Grunt are going to kill each other if you don't give them something else to fight."

Shepard downed the last swills of her coffee, she was running on caffeine and adrenaline alone these days. It had been less than a week since she dropped the Reaper bomb on the Terminus Systems and now no one would shut up about it. As the hub for information, that meant no one would shut up to _her_ about it.

Still, it wasn't all bad. The geth had been immediate to agree to help in their full numbers, and the hanar were more than interested, believing the Prothean warning beacons to be the will of the Enkindlers. They'd lost the elcor, who were sticking with the Council. Many were up in the air, making tentative arrangements.

"Kahje? Guess they're not too protective of their client species. Get Kelly to set something up with Aria and send a message ahead to Wrex. Ask him if Grunt can take the Rite again, that should burn off some excess energy. Where's Kasumi? I need to talk to both of you."

The door slid open and she swept out into the hallway, Miranda following in her wake. Mordin didn't even look up as they powered through his lab, this was becoming an increasingly common occurrence.

"You have new messages at your private terminal, Commander," Kelly said as they walked by.

"I bet. It's not 'Commander' anymore, Kelly. 'Shepard', remember?"

"Sorry, Shepard."

"Kasumi!" Shepard moved on, spotting a flicker of movement in the far end of the CIC. Kasumi uncloaked and turned her attention to her CO.

"What's up, Shep?"

"Are you any good at electronic forgery?"

Kasumi preened. "Who do you think you're talking to? I'd need a hacker to plant the documents, though."

"Good. We've killed a lot of very rich people over the last few years. I want you two to find out which of them didn't have viable wills, or whose can be retroactively tampered with. Liara can give you accounts and identities to funnel the assets into, just get us everything you can. Focus on mining and farming interests, then money, before property. Try to keep it outside Council space – I don't want C-Sec's attention."

"Got it," Kasumi said.

Miranda nodded. "We'll do what we can, Shepard."

Shepard adjusted one of the dials on her visor, opening up a channel with Joker. "Joker, what's the ETA to Tuchanka?"

"_Shuttle can leave in ten minutes_."

"Thanks." She turned the dial again, opening her up to the full crew. "Anyone who needs to blow off steam, suit up and head to the shuttle. We are out of here in ten minutes. Bring your maw-killing hats."

A chorus of assent greeted her and she closed down the channel, heading for the elevator. Her terminal could wait. She took a few deep breaths, trying to relieve some of the tension in her muscles, which were currently dancing on every nerve ending. Caffeine and stress. She'd have to be her best for Wrex, particularly with the news she had for him.

She fingered the datapad in her pocket, Maelon's work, talked out of Mordin with her reassurances. The krogan would do anything if she handed them the genophage cure. Wrex would see it for what it was: her trust in him, her belief that he could be a strong leader and that the krogan were ready to become a constructive part of the galactic community.

She didn't want to do this. She didn't have the moral authority to make this decision. Everyone asked her opinion each time this came up – as if the great Commander Shepard could make the distinction between necessity and atrocity – but she didn't know. There were valid points to both sides of the argument. A krogan population explosion would have long-term effects for them and everyone else, and without the wisdom to use their strength, they could be as bad as the Reapers. But there had to be another way. Any other way.

The situation spun her round in endless circles. Wrex was her friend, and he was strong. If anyone could keep the krogan from destroying themselves it was him. As their most loyal ally, she couldn't have them at anything less than full strength. Wavering here would mean defeat. She knew there would be hard decisions.

She opened the dossier that Liara had sent and read it as she wandered down to the shuttle bay, trying to take her mind off the more pressing matters at hand. Most of the high-ranking turians involved in the First Contact War were unlikely to ever join up with her, but Liara must have seen some potential in this one. She liked the look of the file. Most of her team were amazing field agents, but if she was going to command an armada it would take someone with logistical experience. Jack wasn't going to cut it.

She noted his location and closed her omni-tool. She'd find the time. As long as she didn't have to fight through a warehouse full of Blue Suns, she'd be happy.

Half the special ops team of the _Normandy_ were busy on their individual assignments, but those who weren't showed up at the shuttle to the man. It was a little crowded inside. Shepard had her face smushed into Grunt's spaulder, and Garrus' elbow was sticking into her ribs, but she was so relieved to be off that damn ship that she didn't complain.

The hot, feverish smell of Tuchanka was a beautiful thing when the shuttle doors opened. Like walking into an irradiated oven, only this was a good thing. Shepard could already feel the sweat beginning to pool at the base of her skull as everyone filed out into the open air. She hadn't seen any sun for three weeks and a shred of her sanity returned in the toxic light.

Wrex gave her a fiery welcome, as always, and ordered his guards to escort everyone to the Rite. Shepard pressed a kiss to Grunt's cheek. "Have fun, sweetie."

The young krogan began grumbling something about her being a sentimental human until she raised an eyebrow. He looked away with a huff, then gently nudged her with his shoulder. Shepard grinned and waved the party away. They looked like they were ready to run Tuchanka out of maws.

Wrex watched them go as Shepard took a seat to his left. The stone was probably comfortable to krogans, but she was sure this meeting would give her a sore back. It didn't matter, the sun was beating down on her and she raised her face to it, letting it warm her space-cold skin.

"How've you been, Wrex?" she asked.

"Better than you, from what I've been hearing."

"Lucky bastard."

"We lost another dozen in the Rite this week. Our population is falling fast. At last count, we were down to less than two billion on Tuchanka. Though I guess you'll just tell me that it might fall a lot faster in the next year."

The datapad seemed to burn in Shepard's pocket as her old friend's face creased with concern. This was harder on him than he let on. "Our estimates put the Reaper fleet at around eight months out. That's just an estimate. Could be later."

"Could be sooner."

"That too. I don't like it any more than you do. That's why we're doing something about it."

He chuckled without humour. When Wrex couldn't make a joke, the situation was grim. "There are a lot of things said around here, Shepard. This isn't the first time krogans have been used as a bludgeon against an enemy no one else can defeat."

"Then it will probably surprise you when I tell you that's not what I want from the krogan." She shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips.

"You don't want to send us against the Reapers? I always said you were crazy."

"You also always said you were going to eat our dead, and that was never true either. No, I don't want any real number of krogan in our armada. You know how to kill a Reaper: a stealth vessel, a strike team, and a big flashy distraction. I don't think there is a krogan word for 'stealth'. It takes biotics and techs to infiltrate a Reaper, and a jury-rigged explosion is a much better distraction in space than any number of your troops. A few heavy weapons specialists will be needed. Maybe a thousand krogans in the armada. Two if we have the ships for it."

"Two thousand?" Wrex's shock was palpable. "You could just hire the Blood Pack, what do you need me for, Shepard?"

"Every other bloody thing. They know by now that their Collector numbers have been decimated. Their first priority will be to land on colonised planets and turn their populations into husks for a ground army. The instant a Reaper even looks sideways at a planet, I need a suppression force that can get in there quickly and not leave a damn thing standing."

"Damn, Shepard. That's cold-hearted. I like it."

"You think the others will, too?"

This time Wrex's laugh was genuine and full-bodied. He slammed his fists together. "They'll love it. A fierce enemy, a worse general."

"We'll be setting up refugee stations, as well, which will need guards. The Blood Pack would be useful if they're agreeable. Manual labour, mechanics, we have a few big engineering projects that need workers. No one builds like the krogan, and half the battle is going to be in our technology."

"You're going down in history for this. And once it's all over we will tell our children how we protected the galaxy that neutered us. How their civilians became indebted to us and our worth was proven a dozen times over."

"That's what I'm hoping for." The datapad taunted her. _Show him, show him, make his day, make his millennium._ "Wrex, I..."

He looked at her expectantly, giving her a long moment to continue and finally giving her a bemused squint when her throat refused to cooperate. "Grunt is right, you are getting sentimental. You're not about to declare your love for me, are you?"

She choked on a laugh and decided to bite the bullet. She shoved the datapad into his hands before she could second guess herself. He stared at it, not comprehending; the long and complicated formulae meant nothing to him. It was easy to see when understanding dawned on him, the future of his species in his hands, the undoing to the injury and insult the turians had dealt.

"It's not complete, but we have scientists working on it. A couple of years, maybe. Months, if we're lucky. It'll take even longer to really see the benefits. So much damage has already been done, but I promise that if any of us survives, the krogan are going to continue."

"Shepard..." The old krogan's voice cracked. He looked between her and the datapad, and she thought she saw his shoulders shake. "You're a hero. One of a kind."

For a second she caught his eye, every emotion that neither of them was able to express passing between them, then she grinned and punched his shoulder with all her might. It hurt her hand and just managed to jostle Wrex.

"Now who's sentimental?"

"Cruel to an old friend. I was wrong about you."

"So, you'll give me the troops?"

"As many as I can, Shepard. Down to the last. No one ignores the call of an Urdnot Battlemaster, even if they are human."

She grinned and shook his hand. With the krogan on her side, her army was building. Between them and the rachni she had a proper force. Now it was just a matter of giving them the weapons to get the job done.

But thatwas a worry for later, so instead she settled back into her rocky chair and shot the breeze with Wrex until her crew returned from the Rite.

* * *

_Finally someone let me out of my cage,  
Now, time for me is nothing cos I'm counting no age,  
Now I couldn't be there ,  
Now you shouldn't be scared,  
I'm good at repairs and I'm under each snare,  
Intangible,  
Bet you didn't think so I command you to. _

"_Clint Eastwood" - Gorillaz _


	4. Chapter 4

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 4**

**Deck the Tree With False Blossoms**

**

* * *

**

"Keelah, Shepard!"

Tali's voice jerked Shepard out of her datapad trance. She had read the same sentence five times already. She snapped awake, one hand instantly grasping her sidearm, eyes scanning the room for danger.

"What? What is it?"

The quarian grabbed her by the hand, hauling her to her feet. "You have to see what just arrived from Liara!"

"God, Tali, I thought we were under attack."

Shepard traipsed after her friend, unable to keep up the pace. It had been a very, very long month. Wrex had been the first of many meetings, and the best of them. In between arguing the point with people of every shape size and colour she actually had a war to plan. The geth and rachni were already setting up scouting posts in the far reaches of the galaxy.

This whole admiral thing was hard. There was a great confusion about what to call Shepard, now that she had officially resigned as both commander and Spectre, unable to command any respect in the Terminus if she was seen as just a Council henchman. Liara's PR campaign was almost as trying as the military one.

They'd docked at Illium less than an hour ago, Liara's team had organised the ship to be repainted to reflect their new allegiance while they were on the ground, and apparently sent some gifts as well.

Tali dragged her into the CIC, where a stack of boxes sat. Some of the crew were already ferreting through them, pulling leather and cotton from the folds of tissue paper within.

"Oh, God," Shepard groaned. "I thought she was kidding about getting us uniforms."

"This one is yours," Tali handed her a box, then dragged a larger box out from under the console, struggling with bow legs to move the weight. "And I think this one is your hardsuit."

Shepard tentatively opened the first box. Uniforms couldn't hurt – at least she wouldn't be wearing Cerberus colours everywhere. But if Liara hadn't been joking about the asari dancer/commando combination, she was going to fly straight to Hagalaz to kick some ass. She didn't pick it up right away, her hands stilling as the tissue paper revealed the left breast of a thick silk polymer affair.

A logo was embroidered in the fabric, shining silver against the black.

A shepherd's crook.

She looked up and saw Kasumi, Jack, Jacob and Tali all handling their own uniforms. They all smiled back at her, Kasumi holding up her new uniform with a look of undisguised glee. They were flying under her banner now. Not the Council, or the Alliance, or even Cerberus. She had an entire crew of Shepard loyalists.

For a brief moment she nearly teared up, but quashed the urge. It was just a stupid logo. Nothing to get emotional about, and she was sure that Liara would kill her enthusiasm soon enough. With a deep breath she pulled the uniform out of its packaging in one smooth movement, ready to survey the damage.

"Oh, Liara, you bitch," she hissed under her breath.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been, but it was still undeniably a catsuit. She let out a bark of laughter at the asari dancer neckline. Although this wouldn't show quite as much, the gaping upside down triangle neckline and the sheen of the fabric was a clear parallel. Miranda would be thrilled. At least the shoes weren't high heels.

A note fluttered to the bottom of the box and Shepard picked it up. T'Soni had better have a good explanation for this.

_Shepard, did you know that drell find the lower back a very erotic area?_

_-SB_

Shepard widened her eyes and grasped at the new uniform, whipping it around. No back panel. The small of her back would be completely exposed. It wasn't outrageous or immodest,. Except, apparently, to a drell.

After staring for a few seconds she started to laugh. The others looked at her like she was a madwoman, but she couldn't stop laughing. Through her shaking she managed to get her omni-tool open and type a quick message.

_You will pay for this. And so will Feron for his complicity._

It took only seconds for her tool to beep with a reply.

_You can thank me later._

When did Liara develop such a cruel sense of humour? Shepard stilled her laughter, though she couldn't keep the smile from her face, and looked up at the crew.

"Alright, since Liara's throwing money at us we may as well give her the satisfaction. Everyone get changed. EDI, tell the rest of the crew that we have new uniforms."

"Yes, Shepard."

She took the elevator up to her room and stripped off, eyeing her new suit suspiciously. No underwear if she wanted to avoid a pantyline. The fabric was soft, expensive, something she'd eyed for her undersuit many times but had always dismissed as an unnecessary cost. She could only guess that the point of this fiasco was that she could simply wear her hardsuit over the top of her uniform rather than having to do a full change whenever she needed to switch. Practical and convenient, but she wasn't going to admit that.

The too-tight pants dance was the only method of forcing the suit on. Every inch of material was spray-on formfitting, the buckles and straps seemed more for a false sense of modesty than any practical concerns. She pushed her arms through the short sleeves, stretching the suit over her upper body and arranging her breasts to allow the zipper passage. If Joker was watching this, she was going to kill him.

Finally she affixed the neck and the last of the buckles, feeling like she'd just finished some sort of wrestling match. Wow. This was... supportive. Shepard wiggled from side to side experimentally, the suit holding her in place perfectly. She could feel a cold breeze on her back and ran a hand down the bare skin. No more chocolate cake for her. Ever again.

The suit was breathable and easy to move in. She was ready for a full gymnastics routine, but the final test was the mirror.

Shepard raised an eyebrow at her reflection. Damn. She raised her arms above her head, watching the smooth lines of her waist and bust move with the fabric. She turned, looking at the bare patch on her back. Her hair was up in a military-neat bun, and the whole effect was sleek and professional. She was looking _fine_.

Alright, maybe she wouldn't have to actually kill Liara. Not that there would be any admission that she liked this outfit, there just wouldn't be any murder.

Her sidearm – the only weapon she carried to diplomatic negotiations – fit neatly against her hip along with a few spare ammo packs. There were hooks and harnesses if she wanted be fully armed and for some reason wasn't in possession of her hardsuit. Liara had thought of everything.

With one more twirl in front of the mirror, she had to go be a captain again.

It was nearly time to meet with the Matriarchs, or the few who had been willing to listen. She could use a few asari commando units on her side. They were perfect for strike teams, near vital in removing husks and avoiding seeker swarms. The more she could get from the Matriarchs the less she'd have to pull from Eclipse.

The most frustrating thing with all this was how dark they were running. She had a very rudimentary plan on how to protect the Citadel, but if it fell then any information housed in any electronic format would be compromised. All of her planning could go to waste with a single unprotected terminal. So every person had to be met face to face, no updates could be given to anyone whose allegiance hadn't been bought and paid for, and even then they would have to be in the most primitive form of code, with silly names like Operation: Canary, to prevent the Reapers deciphering it.

The first point of attack was to stop thinking in electronic terms. Names and concepts with sentimental value would be baffling to the Reapers, giving the organics an edge. This whole war would be fought on old-fashioned terms.

The great problem was convincing people to give up their stuff when all she could say was that somewhere, maybe, there might be an army, and the resources to support that army, possibly with an ingenious plan to back them up. Perhaps. It was a hard sell.

She nearly bumped into Kasumi as she stepped onto the CIC.

"Shep!" The thief grinned at her. "Wow."

"You're one to talk. I didn't know you had skin below the neck. I was beginning to wonder if you were actually a quarian in disguise."

Kasumi wore a similar outfit to her own. Except, Shepard noted grumpily, that her back was entirely covered. Did Liara think Thane's affections were so fleeting that he'd follow just any bare back around? She made a mental note to ask the Broker next time she saw her.

"Don't get all defensive, I think it looks great. You've been stuck in those shapeless sweats long enough to forget that you even own a pair of hips." Kasumi gave her a peacemaking smile.

"Sorry, I'm a little on edge."

"Don't worry about it." The thief backed slowly away from her. "By the way, nice back."

Kasumi had cloaked and vanished before Shepard could choke her to death, so instead the captain took the hit with stoicism and surveyed the CIC. Miranda had slipped her perfect self into the new suit like a second skin and Shepard suddenly felt self conscious, wondering if she had love handles. She was a big eater. Biotics had to be. She discretely poked the padding at her sides and realised that she actually had forgotten that she owned hips.

Garrus walked by her and gave her a nod. Her hands flew from her sides, worried that he'd caught her assessing herself. He wore new black armour, the shepherd's crook embossed over his heart. This was kind of neat. They looked like a real crew.

She thought Tali looked the most striking of anyone, the usually purple patterns of her hood were now silver on black, the silk shimmering under artificial light. Where the other women showed skin she instead had interlocking silver plates. Even her mask had changed colour.

Shepard choked on a laugh when she saw Thane. Apparently Liara approved of his look, because his clothing was unchanged aside from the crook on his shoulder. The outfit looked a little newer, fewer scuffs and scrapes, and a darker shade of black, but otherwise the same. His eyes raked her up and down once, giving away nothing, and she was glad she had her back to the wall, because she really did have to talk with him.

Glued to the wall by her shoulders and hips, she beckoned him over. He complied without hesitation.

"Thane, have you heard anything from the hanar? I think they might have declared me krogan and decided to never speak to me again."

"Their politics are intricate, Shepard, it will take time. I'm sure they would have excommunicated me for associating with you by now if they thought you were... 'krogan'." The tiniest quirk of his lips.

"Alright, just let me know if it seems like they're taking too long. We can't afford to lose them as well as the elcor." She started toward the bridge, Thane by her side, never looking below her neck. "Do you think they'll come around?"

"Forging alliances can be a complex business, particularly when the Council aren't standing with you. The mere fact that you've already recruited so many allies in the space of a few weeks may have raised your expectations. Give it time."

She nodded, pressing her lips into a thin line. Always the voice of reason. "I'm seeing Aria soon. If she agrees to the plan, I want to get Kolyat off the Citadel. If you send him a note about it now it might soften him up to the idea."

"I would... appreciate that, siha. Captain Bailey may not appreciate it as much."

"Leave Bailey to me. A lot of people on this ship have family in Council space, I'm going to save as many as I can." There was a beat of silence between them and she thought she felt something like nerves, she couldn't quite meet his eye. "I think he'd like to see you again. I think you being part of a real army could be a good example for him. Might set him on a better path."

For a heartbeat she thought she'd been too personal, too judgemental, then he gave his little half smile. "I've told you before the difference between a true professional and a man in custom armour."

"Oh, come on, this is better than just custom armour, this is a custom unitard. And I sure as hell better be wearing it for more than a game of toy soldiers."

That rumbling in his chest brought a grin to her face. He shifted his weight. "Yes, you look very... suitable."

She laughed outright. "I knew you had a sense of humour. You're just good at keeping it hidden. Which must be easy when your outfit leaves room for more than a tan. I don't know what Liara was thinking, dressing us like Chora's Den dancers."

Thane made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, quickly smothered by his hand. She baulked. She'd never heard that sound before, and it sounded suspiciously like a suppressed laugh. She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was really laughing at her for being dressed like a very belligerent stripper.

"Siha..." He had to pause, pressing his mouth to his hand again to keep his composure. "I think Dr. T'Soni might have based your outfit off an asari Matriarch, not a dancer. It was the dancers who appropriated the style from the Matriarchs, the highest symbols of power and sexuality in asari culture."

"... Oh." Now that she thought about it, Benezia also wore the inappropriately low cut, upside down triangle neckline. Breasts probably weren't a big deal in a society where everyone was female. Alright, yeah, he was right to laugh at her about that. "So, if you could not let the rest of the crew know that I'm an idiot, I'd really appreciate that."

"My lips are sealed."

"Thank you. Do you have any business on Illium or am I just keeping you hanging around the airlock for no good reason?"

"I have business, although I believe I have been ordered not to discuss it unless it is vitally necessary."

"Oh, I see. Well, guess we'd better stick to captain's orders."

Running dark was irritating. All official conversation was kept to minimum just in case a stray bug or security cam or eavesdropper was nearby. Then again it might have been the only thing keeping her sane; if she let them her crew would talk about nothing but the upcoming war.

Samara and Jack arrived together, and everyone studiously refused to look at Jack, who was ready to murder someone on days when she _wasn't_ crammed into Miranda-esque attire. Shepard wondered if she'd find any comfort in the fact that they now depicted the very embodiment of asari power and sexuality. She doubted it. Though now she could see where Thane was coming from – Samara looked even better than Miranda, dignified and powerful. Maybe Shepard and Jack could set up some kind of gangly-people-in-catsuits support group. She was going to need it with all the curvaceous women on board looking so damn good.

"Everyone ready?" she asked.

"Shepard, you can't expect me to go out in public wearing this," Jack scowled.

"If I have to do it, so do you. Suck it up, princess. Any other objections? No? Great."

She hit the airlock controls and ushered everyone inside. Thane opened the far door like the paradoxically chivalrous man he was and Shepard opened up her omni-tool to get directions to the meeting place, examining the map as she walked past him onto the Illium docks.

The drell drew in a hissing breath through his teeth and Shepard froze, realising that she had just unthinkingly exposed her back to him. _Play it cool, Shep_.

She threw a nonchalant glance over her shoulder, pretending not to notice the dark, smouldering look in his eyes, or understand the reason for it. She just offered him her most innocent smile and continued on past the concierge, trying to ignore the way the back of her neck heated up, like hot hands caressing her skin.

She waited until she was well out of sight before letting a grin spread across her face, feeling like all her nerves were tingling. She'd never seen that look on his face before, hadn't thought he was capable of it. And now. Now she'd wear a pair of hotpants to a diplomatic meeting if it meant he'd give her that look again.

Samara and Jack surely noticed the skip in her step and the dopey smile, but mercifully said nothing.

Her omni-tool beeped and she flicked open her messages, finding a new note from Liara.

_I said you could thank me later, Shepard. It's later._

Shepard whirled around and, upon spying the nearest security camera, made a special point of giving it the finger.

Still, the warm feeling that engulfed her made no move to go anywhere as she lost herself in the crowds of Illium.

* * *

_Boys looking for love,_

_A young man needs violence,_

_Licking guitars, a little desperate._

_Girls looking for love,_

_Their women dressed like violets,_

_Flicking cigars, a__ little desperate._

"_The Others" - Dukes of Windsor _


	5. Chapter 5

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 5**

**Slough Off the Cicada's Golden Shell

* * *

**

The beats of Afterlife were heavy, stifling, hiding dirty deeds and dirtier thoughts under an oppressive bass thump and blinding red light. Shepard had often thought that this club, this hub of operations, was designed to stop people from thinking clearly. Aria was an incredibly smart woman. Even a trained operative could lose herself here.

Samara seemed like she was immune to the environment. Jack seemed like she was becoming immune to the chain of command. They had to keep their heads on straight for this. Aria was a key point. If this was successful the rest of the war would revolve around her. Luckily this was a negotiation where she had a lot to offer.

Grizz greeted them at the door in his usual charming manner, then looked all three women up and down before giving them a glance that clearly said he thought they were crazy.

"Aria's set aside a private room," he said.

Shepard nodded her approval, at least the asari was taking this seriously.

They were led through the packed club. The place had never been this busy, it was like the people could tell something was coming. Of course. Aria knew she was here to ask for as much as she could wring from the old mining colony. The bitch wanted protection from the Reapers without having to give up anything she didn't have to. She'd probably put a lot of thought into this night and what state Shepard would be in when she entered.

She shook her head, trying to clear the ringing in her ears. Her libido had died three years ago, somewhere between her body's death and the Collectors, it wasn't going to reawaken right now. Not for Aria and her mind games. Softening up a negotiation opponent by confusing them was an old tactic, but an effective one. As long as there wasn't any red sand in the air supply she'd be fine.

Shepard gave a nod to the bartender – the turian one, the one who didn't poison people – and he nodded back. Grizz led them down the few steps to the private room. The door opened and the sudden lack of music left a deafening quiet.

Aria was already inside, lounging back on one of the couches, long legs crossed. She took one look at her visitors and started laughing. A whole-bodied belly laugh that seemed to echo in the quiet room.

Shepard made her most sarcastic 'wrap it up' gesture.

"You're one crazy bitch, Shepard. Grizz, scan them."

"Thinking I'm not me again, Aria?" She pushed past Grizz and sat down. Jack and Samara took positions at the door, alongside Aria's guards.

"No one walks into Omega unarmed. Not even you. So either you've lost your fucking mind or you have something you don't want me to see."

"Actually, I have something _I_ don't want to see. Your guards."

There was a beat of silence and Aria narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out if she was serious. "You think I'm an idiot."

"I'm unarmed, your scan confirms it. Loose lips sink ships, and mine isn't going down."

"You think I don't know you have a justicar and a freak with you?"

Shepard nodded, conceding the point. She gestured to Jack and Samara, who immediately left the room. The gauntlet was thrown.

The two women faced off, meeting each others gaze evenly, Shepard offering only the barest hint of a smirk. Finally the asari yielded with the quirk of one tattooed eyebrow. She flicked her wrist, dismissing her guards.

The guards left with only the slightest hesitation. The muffled sound of the bass was the only thing that could be heard while blue eyes met blue, contemplating. The grounds for negotiations had been set.

"So you're taking the galaxy to war," Aria started. "Bold, even for you. You've got a lot of people walking on eggshells, Shepard."

"This wasn't my decision."

"Oh, I think it was. A lot of people would have just run, found some liveable planet in the outer reaches, hoped that war didn't find them before they were ready for it. Instead you're fighting. Why?"

Shepard scoffed. "I'm not the type to run from a fight. My species is here. My friends."

"No family though, isn't that right? The closest thing you ever had to a home is now just... dust. I noticed that the batarians didn't get an invite to your little party."

"I'm close personal friends with the Shadow Broker, Aria, don't think you can put me off by knowing things about me. And I'm not fighting this war with slaves. Even if I needed them, they make terrible soldiers."

"So instead of getting a ground army, or the ships you need, you're here, in my home, not telling me what it is you want from me."

Shepard reclined back on the sofa, imitating the asari's slouch. She flicked her gaze to Aria for a moment, noticing the playful glint in her eye. New ground for both off them. She wished she could imitate the way the asari seemed completely in control and utterly disinterested at the same time.

She could feel the bass throbbing in her ribcage, knocking her breath about. It was warm and dark, she might not have been able to tell that there were hundreds of people only a few metres away. She'd never been alone with Aria before.

"I want a lot of things from you," Shepard said.

Aria raised an eyebrow. "That's not an opening position that puts me in your favour. You're all talk sometimes, Shepard. You flash a little money, lean on your big friends, piss off a few players, and then think you're the shit. For all of it you haven't given anyone a plan."

Shepard smiled. She grabbed a packet of cigarettes off the table and raised an eyebrow at Aria, who nodded her permission. Lighting one up, Shepard leaned her head on the back of the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

She blew a puff of smoke up into the stifled room. "You know that letting our plans leak onto the extranet, even in private communication, is dangerous. You've read the package. You know how I know that? Because if I'd sent you a package on the mechanics of volus-elcor sex you would have read it, down to the last gruesome detail. You can't let anything slip by you unnoticed, can't bear the idea that somewhere out there, there's something you don't know, can't watch and control. You're a glorified administrator, and if we were enemies I'd mock you for it. Unfortunately for me, I don't want to kill you, and I do need an administrator."

Aria looked like she'd just bitten a lemon, her lips and cheeks puckered in a look of such pure disdain that Shepard thought her face might get stuck that way. "You didn't come here to insult me."

"I consider it a compliment. I've had to be saved from dextro food half a dozen times because I can't even keep track of my refrigerator."

"What the hell do you want from me, Shepard?"

She blew out another long breath of smoke, drawing it out. "I'm going to have refugees very soon. Not the civilian kind, I'm talking refugees from the Citadel. People I trust, people I love, people loved by the people I trust and so on. That's the first wave. When the rumours hit the people in the know, they'll need somewhere to go. This is going to snowball, and everyone coming from Council space will need a place to go."

Aria laughed. "Here? You want to send them here. Where the fuck am I supposed to put a couple thousand refugees? They'd get eaten alive even if I could house them."

"Then I want two levels for training," Shepard continued, her eyes boring into the asari's. "Neutral ground where I can prepare an army without pissing anyone off. We need airspace for an armada, once again, without pissing everyone off and without alerting the Council that there are tens of thousands of rachni in the system. We need administrators for the supplies to feed, clothe and arm all of those people."

Aria didn't seem to know whether to laugh or throw her out on her ass. "What the fuck, Shepard? How exactly do you propose I achieve all this? The vorcha and gangs have this place overrun; we barely enforce the only rule we have. Even if I could, why in hell would I do all this for you?"

Shepard smiled. "You don't think I came in here to appeal to your generosity, did you?"

"Considering how batshit insane you are it's starting to sound like a possibility. Let's say I agreed to this – I'm not, and I won't, but let's pretend I lost my fucking mind and did. How would this be anything but a giant pain in my ass?"

"Aria, you've spent... what, three centuries? Four centuries? Doing fuck all. You think you're the boss, and people leave you alone, stay out of your sight, but what are you really? If you tried to enforce a rule that didn't fly here, no one would listen to you. Hell, if anyone worth a damn was interested in this place you'd be out on your ass."

"Get to the point."

"The _point_ is that I have ten thousand krogans ready to board a carrier and act as a protection force for a refugee station."

Aria paused mid puff. "Krogans?"

"Krogans," Shepard confirmed. "Krogans who would love to tear vorcha to pieces or take on any gang you throw at them. Enough of them to declare martial law and take full control of this station. Clean out the gangs, plenty of room for a few thousand refugees, and its puts you in charge. _Really_ in charge. I'm offering you Omega."

"And if you win? Your krogans get taken home and my station is left in the shit. How am I supposed to feed ten thousand krogans, anyway?"

"Most of the refugees are going to be very rich people. Omega's economy will explode, and with the station under your control and our armada in your airspace, legitimate taxes will make you so much that you won't know what to do with yourself. The stabilised station will only need a fraction of that force and a lot of displaced mercs are going to be looking for work. The food for the armada alone... tax it a credit to the tonne and you'll have enough to pay your troops."

She could see the idea settling in Aria's head. Becoming a legitimate and powerful leader was an enticing prospect. Becoming the leader for the hub of galactic trade was even better. Shepard had deliberately left this until last, letting her mull over the many perks of being the real deal.

This was a hard sell; it would turn the balance of power in the Terminus on its head. And that's what she needed. She needed a home for her troops, somewhere to act as an allied capitol. If Aria refused, they were screwed.

Aria was nursing her drink, thinking deeply. "And once I've let a suppression force onto my station, what's to stop them from taking it for someone else and killing me? Or turning on me if I don't run this the way you like?"

"Aria," Shepard met her eyes with quizzically raised brow. "I'm going to be right on your doorstep, with a fleet big enough to destroy an enemy that could take over the entire galaxy. I don't have time to run this place myself. I need you for that, and I'm sure we'll give you plenty of motivation to do it to everyone's satisfaction. Keep the refugees safe, keep the airspace monitored, and stay out of our way. That's what I need from you. If I wanted your station I would have just shown up with the krogans."

"You would have, wouldn't you?" Aria mused, the tension draining from her body. "This will make a lot of waves."

"It's time to make some waves."

Aria looked at her, then into her drink, and back. Then she started laughing. She laughed to the ceiling, then downed her drink in a single gulp. "Send me your krogans, Shepard. Let's make some waves."

She poured another drink and one for Shepard, then held up her glass. Her lips curled in a predatory smile, matched by Shepard's own. It was good to be in charge.

Shepard toasted their agreement and took a mouthful. Disgusting, but whatever Aria wanted to seal the deal she could have.

A great weight lifted off her shoulders. They had their base of operations. This was going to work. Holy hell.

The Reapers would never think of Omega as a valuable target. Small population, not mentioned in any respectable publication except as a menace. Indoctrinated people from anywhere in Citadel space wouldn't even think to note it to their masters. The organic armada was as good as hidden, priority refugees as well.

Aria settled back onto her seat, looking comfortable again. She crossed her arms, pressing her breasts together, and Shepard looked away. This damn room, this damn club. She was in control. In control. They still had business.

"One more thing," Shepard said.

"Fuck, Shepard, what else do I have to give?"

"You know Armando Bailey?"

"C-Sec Captain. Why?"

"You're going to need people to co-ordinate the krogan force. He and his assistant, Kolyat Krios, are already on my immediate refugee list. Offer them jobs and I'll make sure they accept."

"Why not? You've already shaken me down for everything else."

"You let me."

Aria shrugged non-committally. "There's one more thing I can give you, free of charge."

The asari's tongue flicked out to wet her lips and Shepard unintentionally mimicked the movement. The bass was pulsating down her spine, a warm sensation settling in her solar plexus.

"Oh, please, Aria, nothing's free from you."

"I have to get my entertainment somewhere, and I want to see what you'll do with this information."

"Fine, hit me."

"There's someone you might want to look into recruiting. They say she's psychic."

"Psychic?"

Aria shrugged again, raising her drink. "I'll send the details to your ship."

Shepard stood up, stretching out as she did, suddenly itching to get out, away from the warm and dark, away from long asari legs crossed at the knee. "Thanks for the tip, I'd better go. We'll have another drink when Omega's a different place."

"You're still looking tense, Shepard. Never found that man? I can always arrange something, if you're having trouble."

Shepard scoffed, wondering if she was really that obvious. "Ha! And get electro-gonorrhoea from one of your skanks? No thanks."

Aria smirked, running a finger around the rim of her glass suggestively. "I wasn't offering one of them."

She almost laughed, until Aria met her eyes. Wow.

No. No, that was outrageous. She was a soldier, she didn't go around sleeping with asari kingpins. Not even the kind that looked really good in red leather.

Kaidan! Think of Kaidan. The thought had been enough to keep her from Thane's grasp, despite the way his voice made her whole body heat up, just like she seemed to be doing now. Kaidan. Kaidan had been faithful to her, mostly, and she was dead, she couldn't just...

Shepard realised she'd been contemplating the offer too long when long fingers traced up her spine, sending her whole body into shivers. Aria was a very, very sexy woman, and she was very, very close. What had she been thinking before? Something about someone, she was sure, but Aria's thumb settling in the sweet spot of her hip dissolved the thought as it was forming.

"Fuck it," Shepard murmured, and pulled the asari into a kiss.

* * *

Shepard staggered out of the private room to Samara and Jack's concerned, slightly freaked out stares. Her hair was loose, utterly dishevelled, her face flushed. Her feet barely hit the floor when she walked.

"Shepard?" Samara asked tentatively.

"I'm fine! I mean, Aria's in. Not in. She's on board. Omega's on board, in that they'll be our base. There's no one in or on anything." Oh, smooth. How much of that liquor did she drink? Her squad gave her highly a intrigued look, but Jack caught on first. The woman burst into a malicious grin and was about to say something when Shepard cut her off. "It never happened!"

"Oh, I can't wait to tell– " Jack was cut off by an arm to her throat, pressing her against the wall of the club. Shepard invaded her space, keeping her pinned, but the little miscreant's grin didn't budge an inch.

"It never happened," she repeated.

She let Jack go, knowing she hadn't done any real damage, only to be met by Samara's disapproving stare. She turned and started marching through the club, suddenly needing to be outside and back on the Normandy.

"Aria T'Loak is a manipulative woman, Shepard. You should be careful around her."

"A little late for the warning, Samara. No harm done." _As long as no one ever finds out,_ she added mentally.

"As long as our goal was accomplished."

"Better than I'd hoped. Come on, I've got to tell Thane that I've saved his son." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Move out."

* * *

_Your nightmares only need a year or two to unfold._

_Been alone since you were twenty-one,_

_You haven't laughed since January,_

_You try to make like this is so much fun,_

_But we know it to be quite contrary._

"_Australia" - The Shins_


	6. Chapter 6

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 6**

**Shut the Door to Catch the Thief

* * *

**

The months since the Omega-4 relay had been activated were ominously quiet. Kaidan had expected Shepard to storm the Citadel, demanding that people listen to her, bringing news about the Reapers and their plans. He expected rioting in the streets. Instead she just left.

After her first presentation to the Council – which they dismissed, as they always had – she had made no attempt to convince them, had brought forward no more evidence. Hell, she hadn't even appealed to Anderson. Her resignations from both Council and Alliance had come as a shock to everyone who knew her and Kaidan couldn't help but feel like Cerberus was involved.

Her absence left a hole that seemed to ring with silence.

The Reapers were as silent as the commander – ex-commander – which was almost as bad. He wasn't stupid, he knew that killing Sovereign wasn't the end of it. But the hordes of geth zealots were nowhere to be seen. The Collectors had vanished as if they never existed. The Citadel keepers weren't acting strangely.

There were some things out of place, strange things, minor things. The sort of things that were mentioned at the end of a briefing or on the galactic news channel. The sort of things that most people wouldn't pay attention to, but that somehow he just knew would add up to something.

The slight economic dip from resources flooding to the Terminus systems. Two law firms put out of business for numerous infractions regarding the wills of criminal figures. The hanar putting a temporary hold on their decision over the offered Council position. Mindoir pulling away from their Alliance contract to start supplying a private third party. A possible rumour that the krogan were moving troops. Little things. Little, vexing things.

Right now the mystery revolved around a quarian ship that had been orbiting the Citadel mass relay. It had dropped a few passengers on the station, then simply flown to the relay, lazily orbiting and making no further move. When questioned by C-Sec the young crew insisted they were on their various pilgrimages and had chosen to visit mass relays for the duration. Kaidan and every other person on the station would have called it an outright lie if they had been doing anything that didn't corroborate their story. They just sat there, day after day, performing various scans. Their shore party did the same to the Ilos relay on the Presidium.

The traffic control officers had already come to view them as some kind of mascot, but that was a very optimistic description of a situation that Kaidan was sure would end badly.

What was worse, a very similar crew had shown up at the Local Cluster relay – Earth's relay – with the same explanation and the same behaviour. Maybe it was a new craze, mass relay pilgrimages.

Except it wasn't. Something was going on, and he was once again out of the loop.

What in hell was Shepard doing?

* * *

"We can take apart a relay in six minutes if you want it to be put back together again," the quarian confirmed, the hologram flickering in the comm room.

"And in an emergency?" Shepard asked.

The quarian shrugged. "A nuclear charge can go off in a third of a second."

She nodded and looked at Tali, who she could swear was glowing with pride even through her mask. All that was well and good, but Shepard could have blown the damn things up herself. "How's the research on building new relays going?"

"Well..." The quarian shifted uncomfortably. "The Conduit gave us a lot of good information. With enough eezo we can put together some basic relays, enough to keep us functioning. They'd only take a ship or two at a time, have a lifespan of a few years. They'd give us enough time to build something sturdier."

"But..." Shepard prompted.

"The IFF activation is killing us. We can get the core to recognise it, but not as an activation condition. As it stands the best these relays would give us is an advanced warning."

"Alright, and when are you going to reconsider the offer of geth assistance?"

"When you put a gun to our heads, ma'am. And maybe not then."

Shepard smacked her lips. "Great. Well, the Reapers can do that for me soon enough. Prepare a local datapad report; there'll be a pickup at the flotilla in two days. The next snail mail run from the Citadel should be coming tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Dismissed."

The hologram went dead, leaving the room silent. Those quarians would be damned useful if they'd just let the geth get a look in. Shepard combed her fingers through her hair and took a deep breath. No use getting overexcited. At least they'd finally agreed to help, she couldn't ask the world of them. They still had six months, and the quarians had managed to replicate the technology in a mind-bogglingly short timespan. She should focus on getting hanar client races for workers so they could actually think about manufacturing them.

"Are you alright, Shepard?" Tali asked.

"I know your people have a kind of age old rivalry thing going, but frankly, I once worked for a man who tried to feed me to a thresher maw. There are only so many ways I can say the words 'death of all sapient life in the God damn galaxy'."

"I know it's frustrating."

"I'm sorry," Shepard sighed. "I shouldn't take it out on you, you're one of the few who understand how serious this is. It's just that I'm a soldier, I wasn't built for all this talking."

"It's alright, I know you're not upset with me." Tali looked away, rubbing the back of her neck.

"And now you're not telling me something."

"Maybe I should be helping more. You're right, people aren't taking this seriously."

"You have an idea?" Shepard leaned back against the console, crossing her arms. It was sometimes hard to tell with quarians, but she was fairly sure Tali was about to suggest something incredibly uncomfortable for her. For someone who wore a mask at all times, she wasn't great at hiding her emotions.

She rubbed the back of her neck again and looked up. "I could appeal to Admiral Zaal'Koris."

"Qwib Qwib?"

"He's a geth apologist. Right now his position has never been stronger; he'd make a good case for working together with the geth."

Of course. She should have remembered that. Tali should have reminded her. "Do it."

Tali left the room, the reason for her embarrassment now clear. Shepard didn't watch her go. She should have said something sooner. So much for having a crew who understood what they were fighting for. She felt like banging her head against the wall, but settled for giving another heavy sigh. She needed to go see Grunt, he'd understand her frustrations, he was frustrated by anything that was still intact.

EDI was running checks on a number of systems while they were docked at Illium, fresh off round eighteen of Matriarch talks. The checks were producing more than a few anomalies around the ship, most notably the over hot temperature, which was not helping keep Shepard calm. She passed right by the Crew Quarters, not even wanting to think about coffee. If she had any more caffeine the crew would have to peel her off the ceiling.

The cargo bay was a few degrees hotter than the rest of the ship again, mounting her tensions. She wiped her forehead as she made her way to Grunt's quarters. He was behind on his training, and she could work off some stress by getting thrown about by a krogan. At least she'd sleep well tonight.

The door slid open in front of her and Shepard jumped back just in time to avoid the full weight of an adolescent krogan falling on her. The sound of a half ton of armour and krogan hitting the metal floor made her ears ring. A dazed Grunt looked up at her, his eyes not focussing, and she looked up, bemused, at his attacker.

Thane stood over Grunt, stripped down to his vest and pants, rivulets running down his neck and collarbones from exertion and heat. His brow was furrowed in concentration, arms still extended from the hit that had toppled the young krogan, teeth bared.

Oh, this did not ease any tension at all. This did the other thing. The setting her on fire thing.

"Battlemaster?" Grunt asked form the floor.

She stepped over him. "Thane. How did you...? _Why_ did you...?"

"My apologies, Shepard, I didn't mean to startle you." He was breathing hard, which might have made it that much sexier if she wasn't worried his lungs were about to collapse. "Dr. Chakwas informed me that my lack of activity was beginning to degrade my condition, and Grunt mentioned that he was behind on his physical conditioning."

"Why didn't you say something? We have plenty of shore work that needs doing, I could have sent you somewhere."

"I didn't wish to worry you."

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine," Grunt grumbled. Shepard smiled. He was getting quite an attitude, and she liked to flatter herself that his snark was at least a little influenced by her.

Each adult grabbed one of the krogan's hands and with a little grunting and straining, managed to get him on his feet. He staggered and Shepard stepped back, just in case she was about to get another face full of krogan, but he kept his balance.

"How did you even do that?" she asked disbelievingly.

"I've had to assassinate many krogan in my time. Knowing how to fight them is necessary."

Shepard looked at her feet, clasping her hands together. She'd come in here to work off tension, not to work it up. Truth be told she'd been avoiding Thane, both to avoid telling him about Aria and to avoid stoking the fire that the asari had lit in her. 'Embracing eternity' was incredibly good, but it left an ache that told her she needed the real, physical, skin on skin, tongue on tongue, _male_ deal. Half-naked Thane sweating and panting and flattening krogans was not helping her ignore that urge.

She shook her head, snapping herself out of this awkwardness. "That's amazing. Could you... you know... teach me how to do that?"

"Am I being volunteered for this?" Grunt asked.

"Of course. The technique is easy to learn but difficult to master," said Thane.

"If I can't go into a blood rage against my next enemies, I'm remembering this."

God, his eyes were so deep, she was sure she was going to drown in them. Was her heart supposed to do that funny fluttery thing? "I'm a fast learner."

"I have no doubt, siha."

Grunt growled. "You two are disgusting."

"Afraid of little me, Grunt?" Shepard asked, her eyes not leaving Thane's. He wasn't diverting his gaze either.

The krogan growled again and didn't answer, his consent as good as given. He must have been beaten pretty badly to be hesitant to take up the fight again. Impressive, as Garrus would say. She tore her eyes away from the drell to examine her charge, noting a dark brown discolouration in a number of places he had taken multiple hits. She didn't even know that krogan had weak spots.

With a shake of his head Grunt took up position on the far side of the room. Shepard shook herself out, loosening her joints. A warmup wouldn't have gone astray, but she was too anxious to learn whatever Thane was planning to teach her.

The drell was beside her, in her personal space, cool hands ran the length of her arm and he was talking but she wasn't quite listening. He guided her arm to bend at the elbow, running a hand up the soft, sensitive skin of her forearm. Holy hell she should not be daydreaming when Grunt was about to try to kill her and those hypnotic lips were only moving to tell her how to not die. He grasped her by one hip, showing her the stance that wouldn't send her ulna flying across the room when she connected. Oh, did his fingertips just stroke her a little then? Wait, what was he saying?

"...under the chin," Thane finished.

Shepard nodded. She'd rather get steamrolled than admit that she hadn't heard a word. She had a vague feeling that he wanted her to elbow Grunt under the chin, that seemed like the gist of what he'd said. Grunt had a splotchy bruise under there anyway, it was basically a marked target. Not even a problem.

She took up position, stance wide, shoulders hunched. If she totally failed at this, Thane might at least attribute it to their different fighting styles. Vanguard and assassin weren't exactly similar, and his 'take no prisoners' style was a lot more smart and efficient than her 'leave no survivors' style.

Shepard nodded to Grunt, who took up his stance, then started to charge.

She took a step forward just before he hit her, giving leverage to the blow she aimed for his neck and charging with biotic strength as she always did.

Grunt shifted just an inch, stooping lower and her elbow collided with his eye. The krogan gave a howl of pain and turned. He continued his charge, catching her with his shoulder with enough forced to hurl her across the room.

And she would have been hurled, had her foot not caught behind his knee.

Shepard tripped, instinctively trying to catch her weight with her other leg, instead finding it tangled with Grunt's ankles. He was still moving and she fell into his arm, back to chest, both of them falling while turning and charging and grasping at injuries.

They fell to the floor, Grunt on top of her.

Spots exploded in front of Shepard's eyes and all the air was pushed from her lungs in a great whoosh. Using every bit of biotic strength she could muster, she pushed the dazed krogan off herself. Her lungs expanded again and she lay on her back, too breathless to laugh.

Thane's bemused face appeared in her field of vision. "Siha, I told you to check his shoulder. And aim for his throat."

"I think I'm broken," she croaked.

Lying beside her, Grunt somehow managed to give her the stinkeye with one eye clutched under his hand. "This is an embarrassment to both of us."

It was not her fault that she became an uncoordinated mess when Thane was running his hands all over her. That was natural, dammit. The thought crossed her mind that such a situation ideally ended in tangled limbs and her on her back, panting. She laughed at the thought and punched Grunt in the shoulder.

"Maybe I need a little more prep work before I actually take on a krogan with any finesse."

"That might be a good idea," Thane agreed.

Grunt clambered to his feet, his pinched face in danger of collapsing in on itself and his threatening glower less intimidating since he couldn't open one eye. "No more of you two. Out."

Shepard pushed herself into a sitting position and let Thane help her up. He gathered his coat and led his still staggering CO away, offering Grunt an apology for the trouble on his way out.

In the hallway he tried to check her over for injuries, but she waved him off. If any of her titanium-reinforced bones broke from the weight of one krogan, she'd sue the Illusive Man for everything. There were some fairly nice bruises forming under her ribs, though, from what she could feel. It'd be a few minutes until she was able to see straight, but she was intact.

Thane was smiling his enigmatic little smile at her and she had a feeling that he had figured out exactly why that had gone so wrong.

"You should practice more, Shepard, that was a poor showing."

"Most of my hand-to-hand involves biotics, there's not a lot of skill involved. Just sort of push them over with a lot of force."

She pressed her back against the wall, feeling the cold bulkhead through her suit. She let her eyes wander down Thane's arms. He was far more muscular than his jacket let on. Now that they were alone she could linger a little on the colour of him, the stripes that broke and wound down his skin. She wanted to take hold of that tantalising zipper on his vest and see just how much of him was striped.

"When there is more time, I'll teach you properly. More time and fewer distractions."

She could feel the dilation of her own pupils, the slight mechanical pressure that told her that her eyes must have looked nearly as black as his. She was sure her arousal was clear as day to him, her whole body felt flushed and tight, plastered against the wall and sweating. If getting bull-rushed by a krogan did nothing to kill her ardour, then she stood no chance in an enclosed space with the object of her attentions.

He was examining the bruise on her jaw, fingertips gently probing the skin, brushing her hair aside, her breathing was getting a little too heavy for just exertion. God, she'd screwed up letting herself get into this situation. Why not just get a sandwich board saying 'Waiting for Thane to take me up against the wall'? His hand closed over her hip and she let her eyes flutter closed, hooking her fingers into his waistband to close the last inch.

Fuck, she needed this. That was her only thought as his fingers lacing through hers, pinning her hand above her head. She needed this so badly. More, closer, his breath on her neck, his fingertips digging into her waist. She ran her free hand over his shoulder, feeling every defined muscle, the texture of his scales. His hand was on her back, bare skin against skin, and she involuntarily ground her hips into his. The gasp from his lips drew cool air over her neck and she whimpered.

He was pinning her to the wall earnestly now, his weight holding her up, his knee just nudging between her thighs. There was something... there was a reason she shouldn't be doing this... Their noses met, shuddering breaths intertwining. God, _yes. _Wherever this was leading she was already there, wanted to be there all afternoon and long into the night. His lips just ghosted over hers, drawing a needy groan.

Kaidan.

Kaidan, Kaidan, Kaidan, Kaidan, _Kaidan_.

Shepard tore out of Thane's arms, stumbling away from him. "I can't."

She refused to meet his eyes, a chill washing over her. She shouldn't have done that, any of that, this wasn't fair to him. Her face burned with shame.

"Siha..." he started, but she shook her head.

"I have to go. I... I'm sorry."

Without looking back she bolted into the elevator, hitting the button for her cabin and closing her eyes before she could see his disappointment.

* * *

_Leave me out with the waste this is not what I do;_

_It's the wrong kind of place to be thinking of you,_

_It's the wrong time for somebody new,_

_It's a small crime,_

_And I've got no excuse._

"_9 Crimes" - Damien Rice_


	7. Chapter 7

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 7**

**Deceive the Heavens to Cross the Oceans

* * *

**

Six weeks wasn't enough time to change many things. Apart from the sudden, life-changing events, six weeks didn't change much at all. Big change took time, people needed to adjust, work had to be done. Rome wasn't built in a day. If someone told Aria T'Loak that she couldn't change anything in six weeks, she'd tell them to go fuck themselves.

Shepard was impressed with the new and improved Omega. It was still a dump, even Aria couldn't work miracles, but it was a nicer dump than it had been. Some of the people milling through the markets looked unarmed; she even saw a child. This was one hell of a change from the last time she'd set foot on the station. She doubted that Omega had _ever_ been this good, even when it was still a mining colony.

Aria has sent word that they were ready for the first wave of refugees, that Operation: Exodus could begin, Shepard had to see it for herself. Before she started funnelling the family and friends of her crew out of Citadel space she had to be sure that Aria was holding up her end of the deal.

Two krogan nodded to her as she walked past, standing guard on the corner of Harrot's Emporium. "Admiral Shepard."

She raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. It had been entertaining to see Omega airspace swarming with krogan ships and rachni, but she hadn't honestly believed that this place would really be fit for refugees before the Reapers arrived. She'd kind of planned to get the most precious people out at the last minute, so they only had to endure a few months of this place, but now the safer strategy of getting everyone here ASAP was seeming like a better idea. This level at least was looking safe for civilians.

Grunt and Garrus looked around with appropriate appreciation for their base of operations. She'd brought them with her just in case there was still rioting in the streets. And there had been. And Jack had complained mightily about not being allowed to join in.

Shepard opened up her comm channel to the crew. "Alright, everyone, the place seems safe enough for everyone to have a couple of days shore leave. Leave the names and locations of your family and friends with Kelly on your way out, and we'll get Exodus arranged. Please remember while you're having fun that we're under martial law, and around here 'getting arrested' means five blood-raging krogans trying to rip out your liver. I'm looking at you, Jack. Also Zaeed. And Kasumi. Look, just behave yourselves. Have fun."

The rioting had left the population a little more sedate than before, despite leaving an epic mess that Shepard could only assume was going to be cleaned up at some point.

"_Shepard, Liara wants to know if you can meet up with her a little ahead of schedule. I think you're going to want to see this,_" Joker said in her ear.

"Tell her I'll be at the rendezvous in ten." She looked to Grunt and Garrus. "Looks like you guys will have to check out the training levels without me. Cordon off an area for theory, I want to start lectures this month."

"No problem, Shepard," said Garrus, checking his sniper rifle. "Can I assume we're going to be the ones who get the pleasure of giving lectures to mercs and commandos?"

"Unless you know someone else with a detailed knowledge of the Collectors. Don't worry, everyone will feel your pain, including Grunt."

The krogan baulked, crossing his arms and giving her that all too familiar 'you're crazy' look. She hadn't meant to have this argument in the middle of Omega, but she could see him priming for it.

"I won't be _talking_ the Reapers to death."

"Oh, yes you will," Shepard said firmly, not willing to put up with his chest-pounding adolescent crap right now. "If I order you to you'll be reciting Shakespeare at them. You're the only krogan who knows how to fight these things; you _are_ going to be doing strategy with the others."

"You're the battlemaster; it's not my place to think, it's yours."

The challenge was clear in his eyes and Shepard scowled. If he said that one more time she was going to do something drastic.

"Don't be an idiot, and don't act like one. You're bred to be the smartest krogan there is."

"I still serve under a battlemaster. I'm here to kill things, not talk about them."

Shepard thought for a brief second that she might headbutt him. It worked to keep most krogans in line, but, no, Grunt was special. She raised her hand and smacked him in the face with an open palm. He jerked back, more surprised than hurt, and definitely humiliated.

"And then what, huh?" She took a step forward, forcing him to take one back. "You think I'm going to live forever? When I die, who will you take orders from?"

Grunt was trying his best to be defiant while simultaneously backing off. "Whoever killed you, for they will be stronger."

"Try again, Grunt. You said I have no equal, and you know it's true. If someone kills me, it will be by outnumbering or deceiving me, not because they're stronger. I might die from old age before you reach adulthood. So try again: who will be your battlemaster? Who is my superior?" She smacked him again, provoking him, daring him to hit her back.

He growled deep in his chest. "No one, battlemaster."

"So when I die you'll have no one to think for you. You'll have to be a battlemaster yourself." She gripped his stubby chin between her fingers, holding him firmly, forcing eye contact. "So if you don't want to get stuck under an inferior battlemaster, I need you to _think_ for yourself. The Reapers are coming – they're here – and the best weapon we have is information. Use it, or you're useless to me."

His eyes pierced her, burning with rage. "Yes, battlemaster."

"Good." She let his chin go with a slight shove. "Now go decide how you're going to make all the others useful to me and clan Urdnot."

Garrus gave her an amused smirk as Grunt pushed past him. "Kids."

"Tell me about it. I'll catch up with you later."

"Say hi to Liara for me."

"Will do." Shepard waved over her shoulder as she made for the entrance of Afterlife. The trick here was to meet Liara outside without a certain overlord catching her. Although she knew that Aria knew that she was on Omega, she was avoiding the asari at all costs. Partly because of post-coital awkwardness, but mostly because Aria was definitely going to kill her.

Afterlife was packed in a way it had never been before. There were three new bouncers pushing back on the crowds, their calm, even tones agitating people more than the clamour. Usually this would be a good thing, plenty of fresh blood and money running through Omega's hotspot, but they weren't all looking to party. Being the lord mayor of the capitol was a lot of work, something Shepard had neglected to mention in her oh-so-persuasive speech about being the real ruler of Omega.

Aria was swamped with ambassadors, delegates, traders, miners, workers, negotiators and anyone else who thought they could use this new arrangement to their benefit. Aria was mostly pissed off that she couldn't shoot any of them; martial law was extremely convenient, but it left her in the unfortunate position of being second-in-command to the mass of krogans that had flooded her station.

Shepard slipped into the crowd, elbowing her way through, looking for an unmarked blue crest. It didn't take long, though they couldn't hear each other in the middle of the crowd and had to shuffle each other out. Liara was smirking like the cat who got the canary, unable to contain whatever it was even as they pushed through the bustle.

They broke through the edge of the crowd but Liara didn't stop, dragging Shepard along by the elbow.

"Shepard, I'm glad you were able to meet me so quickly."

"Good to see you, Liara. Where are we going?"

Liara pursed her lips to stop the spread of her smile. "I have a gift for you, at the docks."

"Say, why are all the krogans calling me 'Admiral Shepard'?"

"You're the head of the fleet, it's only appropriate. The people need someone to follow, Shepard, the title lends you credibility."

Shepard rolled her eyes. "So it was you. I take it everyone else is going to start calling me Admiral now?"

"Everyone was in complete agreement. If this armada is going to function it needs a working chain of command, with you at its head. The airspace from Kahje to Tuchanka has been put under martial law, which gives you complete authority as the only admiral at the head of the United Terminus fleet."

Shepard stopped as the asari let go of her arm. "The United what now?"

She'd been at the head of negotiations for a time, but handing things off to Aria and Liara had seemed easier, one handling provisions and the other handling manpower and technology. They had almost complete support throughout the Terminus. But... united? That was a big thing. That was a really big thing. The biggest thing that had ever happened in the Terminus systems.

"The United Terminus fleet. Headed by the United Terminus War Board."

"Wait, wait, hold up." Shepard pulled Liara to a dead stop on the mezzanine outside the docks. "Alright, I understand that we need support in this, but this is just temporary, right? We're not actually changing the political landscape of half the galaxy, right? You haven't used your pull to get an advantageous position in a new government... right? ...Liara?"

Liara's smile melted away, leaving only the dignity and poise of her race, an understanding of the greater concerns facing them. "This isn't about me, Shepard. We're bringing people hope, order, safety. They like it. Under you the krogans, the rachni, the Council, they aren't a threat, people aren't having to look over their shoulder for monsters lurking in the dark. You've asked nothing unreasonable and granted protection and free trade, no one wants that to end."

Shepard gently smacked her forehead against the wall, and leaned heavily to support her weight. "I'm... you... we actually have some real problems here. I didn't sign up for this. I just don't want everyone to die. That's not unreasonable. You can call me an admiral all you like, it doesn't make me one. You can hardly call our motley crew an armada just yet. The ships we have now..."

The smile crept back over Liara's face, stopping Shepard in her tracks and the asari reached down, twining her fingers through Shepard's. She tugged gently, leading the newly named admiral away from her flagellations.

"That's why I asked to meet you. I have a gift for you."

Oh, God in heaven, this was going to be bad. Liara walked over to the windows and folded her arms, looking out over the black space where a thousand ships milled.

"Oh my God..." Shepard tore off her visor, approaching the window.

"We found the chassis abandoned outside the Charon relay orbit, the engine was mostly intact. The quarians donated the materials to bring it up to standard and the hanar completed the renovations. It's equipped with everything you could possibly need to deal with every species in Terminus space, as well as the room for a protracted Reaper strike force."

Shepard was struck dumb, sure her eyes could not get any wider. She pressed a hand against the glass, she was hallucinating. "You got me... a dreadnought."

"Refitted as a carrier class. It can hold twelve vessels, frigate class or smaller, including the Normandy. There is a communications uplink to every member of the UTWB, Aria T'Loak, the Council and myself. It holds four hundred crew, with room for two thousand additional personnel and includes military drop vessels suitable for a five hundred strong force, or three hundred krogans. Equipped with two thannix cannons in addition to standard dreadnought weaponry and an inbuilt targeting system similar to your EDI."

The dreadnought glistened in the light from the star, shining white. A flagship for a new fleet, a symbol for a new era. It was beautiful, the hanar aesthetic obvious in the luminescence that seemed to radiate from within. The kind of ship that could be seen for hundreds of miles around, a beacon in the darkness. Lettering a hundred feet high across the side – in English, to Liara's credit – named the vessel _UTV Shepard_.

"Liara..." Her throat was closing up. This wasn't a gift for her, it was a gift to the entire galaxy, so why did she feel so overwhelmed?

"Welcome to your new ship, Admiral Shepard."

"Take me."

The asari smiled, seeming to understand that she was beyond articulate speech. She hit a few buttons on the docking register beside them, opening up the catwalks to a shuttle. Shepard followed dumbly, her mind still trying to wrap itself around the fact that she, the dumb farmgirl from Mindoir, had her own dreadnought, commanded her own fleet. Admiral Shepard. It had been funny when the krogan on Omega said it. It wasn't funny anymore.

The shuttle was white, keeping with an apparent colour scheme, comfortably fitted, nothing like the Normandy's spartan practicality. This was a vessel for diplomats. She barely saw the airspace whiz by, a blur of ships and radio chatter. Her visor was still clenched tightly in her hand as the shuttle docked with the dreadnought, no clank of machinery, just a smooth click. Brand new and running like clockwork.

Liara opened the door and stepped out. She stepped aside, hands folded in front of her, to let the admiral emerge and get her first look at the gift she didn't deserve.

Shepard took one hesitant step out into the glistening corridor, polished titanium, crystal clear glass, luminescent panes of light making the whole world gleam. The decontamination scrub started, the white light of the sonic cleanse forcing the room to take a turn for blinding.

An automated voice startled her. "The commanding officer is aboard, XO Roe stands relieved."

"Roe?" Shepard asked. "As in the one we impersonated on Bekenstein?"

"She's very good, when not faced with you. Jona Sederis has made few concessions, but since Chief Roe was available, she was given to us on a quid pro quo basis."

"And what's her quid out of this pro?"

"That isn't the correct phrasing, Shepard."

Shepard cocked her head. "Oh, that bad, huh?"

"How do you feel about eliminating the Blue Suns?"

"Pretty good, ac...tu... wow." The decontamination ended and the doors slid open. Shepard stepped out, her jaw hanging slack. "Is this... my CIC?"

"It is."

The main conversation piece of the room was the galaxy map, which was almost as big as the Normandy. It dominated the room, each relay represented by a glowing red orb. A more detailed map she'd never seen. Around it were uncountable terminals, the largest sitting far above them, a flight of stairs leading up to a navigation centre. Turian design.

This wasn't the first time she'd been on a turian dreadnought. Just last time she wasn't the CO.

There were dozens of people working consoles, running reports, it seemed like chaos after the two dozen strong crew of the Normandy. Many heads turned her way. Salutes were offered, crew stood to attention. Every species was present, all of them in uniform, black and silver against the purer sheen of the ship. The shepherd's crook was on every breast. She waved down a turian who was standing so straight his spine might have snapped.

She had no doubt that these were the best people, of any species, any planet, Liara wouldn't have selected anyone less.

"You know..." she started, her voice coming out breathless and her mouth dry. She wet her lips and tried again. "You know that the Normandy is my home. I can't bring this down to negotiations or... or... wow, does this map include quasars? Is that a quasar?"

Liara smiled. "I have no intention of you making this your main vessel. But our fleet needs a flagship, and the Reapers need something to focus on. Something that preferably isn't the Normandy. I'm sure you'll find a use for it as your secondary vessel. Let me show you to your quarters, then we'll meet XO Roe."

Shepard let herself be led away from the imposing galaxy map, its light following her even after doors closed behind her. This ship was beautiful, it was perfect. It could bring down a Reaper alone, if it was fully staffed and stocked.

Up an elevator, through more corridors. The standard dreadnought was nearly a kilometre long, half as high, and those hadn't been fitted as carriers. She tried to keep her bearings, placing them above the CIC, at the far end from the navigation centre. Liara brought her to a halt outside a door and gestured for her to use the controls.

"DNA sensitive," she explained.

Shepard hit the pad and the door slid open. Somehow she expected what lay beyond. It was bigger than her Normandy quarters, and far more decadent. No fish tank, thank Gods above and below. Miranda would be green with jealousy if she knew that despite her years of research, she had nothing on Liara for knowledge of Shepard's preferences.

The bed was huge, as was the desk, the sofas few and the decoration sparse. In fact the only decoration was in the form of weapons displayed across the walls. Shepard recognised them as one for each race and organisation that had joined their cause. A one way mirror let her look out over the CIC and a skylight arrangement above her bed let in the light from the sun, the view of the galaxy spectacular. Just one last detail to check...

She spun around and hit the door to what looked like a bathroom. Big, pretty, par for the course at this point. She opened the door to the shower and grabbed a bottle of shampoo, flicking open the top and breathing in. Liara looked at her curiously from the door.

"Dammit, why does everyone think I like lavender?" Shepard asked, pouting.

"You don't?"

"Makes me sneeze. Why is the bathroom door double sealed like that?"

Liara looked away. "It's just... a way of ensuring your room doesn't become too humid. In case that becomes a problem."

Shepard dropped the bottle to the vanity with a clunk, her mouth open in exasperation as she tried to work up the words to how incredibly presumptuous and inappropriate that particular measure had been. Lavender and Thane; the two things everyone thought she needed plastered all over her person despite her objections.

"Well that's just great. Have you planned the wedding? Because you should know that I don't care for roses and an ivory hue flatters me more than pure white."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The two settled down on the lounge suite, and Shepard found it delightfully accommodating, like the sofa that had been her favourite in her childhood home, where she used to curl up and watch vids for hours.

There was a picture on the table and Shepard picked it up. The image flickered to life.

"Ha!" she exclaimed. "How did you get this?"

A picture of she and Grunt stared up at her, the two of them sitting on a dead thresher maw's head, grinning from ear to ear and absolutely covered in gore. Grunt had his arm around her shoulders, and she remembered he had almost dislocated her shoulder in his affectionate glee. She knew how Liara had obtained it, the picture was taken with Thane's omni-tool.

"Thane provided the image."

"Knowingly?"

Liara pursed her lips in a smile. "Yes."

"That was sweet of him." She smiled sadly at the picture. It was very sweet of him. She was confused by her growing attachment to Grunt, and it was just like the drell to notice, to know she'd want something of him right by her.

"What are your plans once you leave Omega?"

Shepard poured two drinks from the jug on the table, pushing one to the asari and taking a sip of her own. "We have two pickups. That turian you recommended, Arrius, he might be a good captain for this ship. There's a peace conference between the turians and humans coming up, if he's anything like I think he is, by the time it's been going on for a few days he'll be so desperate to get out of there that he'll sign up with anyone. And Aria gave me a tip that's worth following up, a psychic."

"A psychic? I didn't think you bought into that sort of thing, Shepard."

The admiral scoffed. "Of course I don't, but the information looks good. Lai is the name, and there's been a practical war waged over her. I checked it out with Sederis, every six months or a year a whole group of her mercs get hired to defend or attack whoever had possession of this woman. Things get bloody, she changes hands, or not. Not psychic, maybe, but there's something to her and if you could find out what it is, I'd appreciate it. Next round of the war is going down in a few weeks, we're going to snatch her up in the confusion."

"Are you sure it's wise to leave Arrius until the peace conference?"

"If he's going to be at the head of the fleet, I'd rather the fleet was completed before we introduce him to it. From what I understand he won't be bringing any allies with him."

Liara swirled her drink in the glass and contemplated it. She looked about to speak when the console buzzed to life, emitting a series of beeps that sounded urgent. Shepard left her drink on the table and approached the desk, examining the myriad of buttons and monitors to find where the sound had come from. A panel alerted her that an emergency communication was coming through.

She held down an appropriate looking button. "Shepard. Go ahead."

"_Shepard, we have received an emergency signal_," EDI's voice surprised her. "_The outermost canary has gone dark_."

"Thank you, EDI."

"_Logging you out, Shepard._"

Shepard let her hand fall, the heel hitting the console hard. She cursed under her breath and looked up to see Liara looking at her curiously.

"Before we even contacted you for help we had geth hit the relays, getting to the edge of the relay system and then travelling as fast as they could toward the Reapers. A suicide mission, but I guess it's paid off. Operation: Canary will let us know how fast they're approaching, and when they reach the relays."

Liara nodded slowly, the information sinking in. "How long do we have?"

"If they've reached the furthest canary, then we have three months, four at the most."

Shepard sat down heavily and leaned her head against the console.

Three months.

Time was up.

The Reapers were coming.

* * *

_You got a reaction,_

_You got a reaction, didn't you?_

_You took a white orchid,_

_You took a white orchid and turned it blue._

_"Blue Orchid" - The White Stripes  
_


	8. Chapter 8

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 8**

**Hide a Knife Behind a Smile**

* * *

Kaidan could have cried with relief when he was assigned his own ship and finally let off the Citadel. Whatever plans the Alliance had for him must have been put on hold or discarded, and he was allowed to continue active field duty rather than being buried under piles of paperwork and waiting for Shepard to misstep into their hands.

That was how he came to be on the edge of the Terminus systems in the Exodus cluster. It was backwater, it was bleak. The only Alliance-friendly planet nearby was Eden Prime, which didn't hold fond memories, but it wasn't the Citadel. There were reports of more quarians around this mass relay. It had stopped being funny when the relays at Thessia, Palaven and Sur'Kesh also became camping sites for 'relay pilgrimages'. It didn't take a genius to see that all the Council races now had a team of quarians guarding their links to the rest of the galaxy.

This team weren't reported as camping at the mass relay but on a nearby planet, a hunk of rock that resembled Earth's moon. Kaidan didn't like this at all. The Council had proven its fatuity in ignoring this, but he knew the quarians were up to something. Just because nobody could find a reason behind these seemingly random scanning stations didn't mean there wasn't one, it didn't mean they weren't dangerous.

The _SSV Tobruk_ orbited the little planet, and Kaidan decided to lead the groundside team personally, aching to feel solid ground under his feet, even if it was on a desolate wasteland.

The sky was black, no atmosphere to disperse the light of the star, and the ground was uniform grey underfoot as the Alliance squad exited the shuttle. A powdery grey dust billowed under every footfall, leaving a trail of clouds in their wake. Kaidan signalled to his two junior crewmen, Long and Hobbes, pointing out the prefab buildings across from where they'd landed. A dozen towers surrounded it, all kinds of scanning and communication equipment.

A mechanical movement caught his eye and he turned just in time to see a colossus wander out from behind a building.

"Shit, geth!" Langley shouted.

All three soldiers drew their guns, and Kaidan checked his grenades, but the colossus hadn't fired yet. They hadn't been expecting geth, every report said these were quarians. Maybe they had been.

"Wait! Don't shoot!" A faint voice rang out and Kaidan held fire just long enough to see a quarian running at them, waving his hands to stop them from opening fire. Usually nothing would stop him from getting the jump on a colossus, but the sheer surprise of what looked like a quarian desperately trying to stop them from destroying a geth was enough to stay his hand.

"Are you aware that there is a geth colossus standing about a hundred feet behind you?" Kaidan asked.

The quarian was panting heavily, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "Yes. One of two. I'm Tal'Venahz vas Alarei, science officer on site. What's your business here?"

"Staff Commander Alenko, _SSV Tobruk_," Kaidan introduced himself. "I was here to ask your business in the Exodus cluster, but now I'd like to know why you have geth on site."

Venahz looked back at the outpost and then back to the Alliance. "They're on pilgrimage."

Kaidan almost laughed. Shepard would have laughed. Instead he bit his lip behind his helmet and shook his head, determined not to let the quarian know that he was amused. "I'm not amused. Why are there geth here, and why are they not attacking?"

"This isn't Council space; it's outside your jurisdiction. Why should I answer your questions?"

"You think anyone's going to care if I blow a crater in this planet to protect Eden Prime?" Kaidan asked, taking half a step forward.

The quarian held up his hands defensively, falling back. There was movement and more figures began to emerged from the prefab behind him. Kaidan was glad no one could see the utter confusion on his face as an asari, two geth troopers, another quarian and a salarian peered out curiously. The asari wore Eclipse armour, the salarian wore a black uniform with a symbol he couldn't make out, and the others appeared unaffiliated. Whatever the hell was going on here, it was more than anyone had suspected.

Kaidan hadn't holstered his gun, and some of the figures in the background pawed at their firearms, seeming to contemplate drawing them. "What in hell is going on here? A real answer."

"I'm not authorised to say," Venahz conceded.

"Then get me someone who is. Geth and Eclipse are both kill on sight. I get some answers or I start shooting."

Venahz seemed to consider this. It was true that if Kaidan opened fire he probably wouldn't survive thirty seconds with one colossus before him and another lurking selsewhere, but if he was killed, the _Tobruk_ would send the report back to the Alliance and a cruiser would be back to shoot first and ask questions later.

"Follow me." The quarian led him to the building into what looked like a workshop, every surface covered in scrap metal and tools. Half a dozen more people worked inside, welding and piecing together mechanical puzzles that he couldn't understand. This wasn't necessarily incriminating, but if there wasn't some good reasoning behind it things were going to get ugly.

They continued into a neater room full of consoles that were probably taking data from the scanning equipment outside. Venahz nodded to another quarian.

"Who is our contact this week?"

The other picked up a datapad and filed through the information. Strange that it wasn't on one of the consoles. "Legion. No, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy."

Vas Normandy? Tali?

"Get her on the line."

There were a few beeps and drones from the console and then the last voice Kaidan had expected to hear in a place like this.

"_Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, reading Herring._"

"This is Tal'Venahz at Herring Two. We have an Alliance Staff Commander Alenko with us, trying to assess our risk to Eden Prime. Please advise."

"_Kaidan?_" Tali's shock was plain in her voice.

"Tali?" He asked. It was her, he knew it was, but he had to be sure.

"_Kaidan, it's really you?_"

"It's me, Tali. Where are you? Are you with Shepard?"

"_I'm not on the _Normandy_ right now; I've been banished to comm duty for my stupidity. It's been so long, Kaidan. Why are you threatening to kill our operation? They're just scanning and building some equipment._"

Kaidan almost rolled his eyes. "Don't play dumb, Tali, there are quarians on every mass relay in charted space. What's Cerberus doing?"

"_Cerberus?_" The shock in her voice was more than plain. "_Didn't you know? We're not with Cerberus anymore_."

"You're not?"

"_No! Oh, Shepard betrayed the Illusive Man, she tore apart all his plans and stole his ship. It was magnificent! I wish you had been here to see it. I wanted to tear them apart the minute I set foot aboard the _Normandy_, but Shepard bided her time and... I couldn't describe it, but it was exactly what you would expect of her._"

Exactly what you would expect. Two years ago he would have expected that of her. He would have expected her to bring Cerberus down with a massive explosion and a cool one-liner, but all those expectations had fallen down around his ears at Horizon. Had he been wrong? All he saw was that Cerberus logo and his world crumbled.

"Tali, what's going on?"

"_You know I'd just have to lie to you. Will you take my word that we're not out to hurt anyone but the Reapers? That your Eden Prime is safe and so are the other planets surrounding the relays?_"

Kaidan stayed silent for a moment, considering if he really would take her word for it. It was a lot to take on the promise of an old friend with questionable allegiances. To be fair, it wasn't Tali's allegiances that were questionable; she'd follow Shepard to the end.

"I'll leave your outpost alone – for now – if you'll meet with me so we can actually talk."

"_Of course I will. I'm leaving Illium today, but I'll be back in a standard month. Tal'Venahz will give you the details._"

"Thanks, Tali."

"_I look forward to seeing you soon._"

* * *

Psychic, what a stupid thought. Shepard pored over the dossier again in the mess, a cup of coffee in hand. Liara had undermined her confidence in Aria's tip – without meaning to, perhaps, but effectively so nonetheless. It _was_ a stupid idea. It wouldn't be the first time Aria had misled them, but this time she was being upfront about the number of things that would be out to kill them, so the catch had to lie elsewhere.

She scrolled through the dossier, not really taking it in, already knowing it word perfect. If it was just a stupid prank then she'd be wasting time and risking lives, neither of which she could spare. She didn't know what to do. More importantly, she knew what would help her make a decision, and she didn't like it.

It had become routine – going to see Thane, asking his opinion. He was always even-handed, practical without being heartless, mindful of their resources, infused with the knowledge of someone who had been killing people around the galaxy almost as long as she'd been alive. She had been vigorously avoiding him for almost a month, ever since their almost kiss. Now she needed his opinion and the thought of seeing him made her want to curl up into a ball and suffocate on her own shame.

Alright, so she was kind of being a little princess about this. She was a grown woman, an admiral. She shouldn't be cowering in humiliation over the thought of talking to one of her crew about the mission. This was legitimate business talk. No undercurrents or overtones or subtext, just a possible mission on which she needed an opinion. Yeah.

Shepard stood up before her mental pep talk wore off and she lost courage again. She downed the last of her coffee and marched toward life support. When she reached the door, she turned and promptly marched the other way.

_No, no, no, stop that, _she chided herself.

With a deep, fortifying breath, she turned back and opened the door before she could chicken out again.

He was sitting at his table, as always, deep in thought or prayer or memory, she couldn't tell. She had desperately missed this, she realised on walking inside. The warmth of the room felt familiar, comfortable.

"Do you need something?"

Oh, God, his voice. "An opinion, if you would."

She tossed the datapad down in front of him, taking her usual seat and trying to keep her face impassive.

"Of course." He picked up the dossier and started reading. God bless him for being that much more gracious than her.

"Aria gave it to me. If we're going to do it, it needs to be next week, or she'll probably be too fortified to get to her. It could just be Aria thinking she's clever."

He made a low humming sound in his throat, the drell equivalent of a thoughtful murmur. "Interesting. This is..."

"Is...?"

He continued reading for a minute, eyes getting a little fluttery, which she knew meant he was very interested. His fingers danced over the pad, scrolling through it, soaking up every word.

"This is a very old tale. A salarian and a drell consummate their love under the gaze of the gods, birthing a child of fantastical power. The species differ, but the tale is always the same."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "So you think it's just a story?"

"Not necessarily. More likely that the parents consummated their lust downwind of an eezo plant and birthed a child of unusual genetic defects. This information certainly indicates that such a person exists. New species always seem to have abilities that border on magical to those unfamiliar with them."

"That would take a hell of a lot of eezo."

He gave a short nod. "It's rare, but not unheard of."

"So you think it's worth checking out."

"I do." He folded his hands again, black eyes turning back to her, making her feel bare. "Even if this is misleading, it's been months since any of us had a combat mission. It would foster morale."

"And keep you breathing."

"Indeed."

She wanted to stand and leave, but suddenly her lungs seemed to give out, her stomach twisting into knots. She'd behaved so appallingly toward him, and yet he was sitting there, giving his honest opinion as if nothing had happened. His grace and generosity were something she could only hope to emulate. It made her chest swell and squeeze at the same time, her eyes sting, something that felt suspiciously, horribly like love.

"Thank you for speaking with me," she said, her voice choked.

"You needn't thank me." Both sets of his eyelids fluttered. "And you needn't avoid me."

"I didn't... I..." Oh, great defence. "I..."

"You want me to forget what happened, or nearly happened. I cannot, but I'm not so unkind as to force you to remember what you do not wish to. I would prefer that we ignored what happened if it means you continue to accept my company."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. This was just what she didn't want. They hadn't even kissed and she was forcing him to put up with her high-maintenance bullshit. He could count his time left in months and had to play push-me-pull-me with her just to get her time of day.

"No," she stood, pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to get her brain working to come up with the kind of response he deserved. "I haven't been honest, and I haven't been fair, and I'm ashamed of myself. It's not like I want to forget, but it's not about what I want right now. I know I don't talk about my personal life all that much..."

"Siha, you don't need to explain. Your friendship is enough for me."

_God dammit, stop being so reasonable!_ she wanted to yell at him, but bit her tongue. "Dammit, Thane, I'm trying to... There's someone else."

She slumped against the wall, dropping her head into her hands, not fast enough to miss the pained look on his face. She had shocked him.

"I did not expect you to have a civilian lover." His response was even, measured, oh-so-careful not to offend or be presumptuous. Why didn't he just yell at her and throw her out?

"He's not civilian; he helped me defeat Saren."

"Then why isn't he here?"

The question wasn't accusatory; it was gentle. God, why was he being so gentle? "He was there when the first _Normandy_ was shot down. I... I died on him. And then Cerberus, and it all just got so confusing. He's Alliance through and through, even if it means he can't fight the Reapers, and I just left the Alliance, and we saw each other on Horizon, and he thought I was a terrorist; he thought I'd faked my death and I know why he thought that, but it's kind of hard explaining that you've been resurrected by mad scientists. And I like you – God, you turn me inside out – but how do you die on someone and then just run off with a gorgeous stranger while they're still grieving? I can't – I couldn't."

Thane listened patiently through her rambling, his face betraying nothing. When she finished he unfolded his hands, his palms on the table as if seeking an anchor. "There is nothing wrong with seeking closure, or giving it."

"There's a lot wrong with everything that's going on right now." She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, praying for clarity. "I should go."

"Siha." His voice stopped her before she could take a single step. "This man, he hurt you."

She wanted to say that he hadn't. She wanted to defend Kaidan, to say that he'd lashed out in anger and confusion, that it was all understandable and that she might have done the same in that situation. He was grieving her death, he was watching a miracle, he was trying to make sense of something that had no rhyme or reason. But somehow her mouth wouldn't work to produce the words. Her throat closed over, refusing to let her speak.

Hurt. She was hurting, and she hadn't even realised it until he'd said it out loud. She wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling like she might fall apart if she let go. The only answer she could give him was a shaky nod of her head as her throat started burning and tears flooded from her eyes without warning.

Shepard tried to drag in air to speak, desperately trying to stem the tide of tears, but all that came to her was a gasping sob, so wretched that she could hardly believe the noise came from her. She pressed a hand to her mouth, horrified that she was making such a scene. She tried not to look at him, turning her face away. As if he hadn't noticed that she had dissolved into a blubbering mess.

Thane was in front of her, hands around hers, pulling them away from her body, strong arms around her waist, supporting her weight when she felt like she might collapse, warm breath in her hair, comforting words that she couldn't make out. She buried her face in his neck and sobbed, let him pull her wracked body into the safety of his arms.

She'd held it all in. When she first woke up it was painful and confusing. It was humiliating to know that a dozen doctors had worked over her body, probing, touching, building her without consent, every inch, all these procedures she hadn't agreed to, her corpse desecrated, and the lead doctor following her around, never leaving her alone. It had disgusted her on such a visceral level that she thought she'd never sleep again. But she was going to find Kaidan. She was going to tell him what had happened and he'd understand. He'd be indignant on her behalf, hate Cerberus with her for everything they had done.

She kept telling herself that. Find Kaidan, then it will all be bearable. I can endure until then.

For over six months she had ignored that she had been more than just surprised when he had yelled at her, when he had denounced her as a traitor. She had been hurt, something far worse than any collector could do to her, like he'd ripped out her heart on the battlefield at Horizon.

It felt like her body was trying to force something out of her, great hacking sobs leaving her incapable of doing more than lean limply against Thane, hands grasping uselessly at his shoulders, unable to bring herself closer, all of her strength drained from the crushing realisation that regardless of where she laid the blame, the pain was real. She just wanted it gone, wanted to die again to make it go away.

Her eyes burned; she didn't think she was capable of producing the rivers that ran down her face, dripped off her chin and slid down the hollow of her neck. She couldn't breathe, but Thane had her anchored when the world was spinning, the only reason she hadn't collapsed.

He drew back to look at her, one hand wound through her hair, supporting her head. She took a shuddering breath, the tide of tears had not stemmed but her sobs had receded to shaky breathes and whimpers. He looked at her with such tenderness and sympathy that it made her want to start crying all over again. After Horizon she hadn't thought she'd ever hear a kind word again.

"This can't be pretty," she rasped, imagining how her face must look to the drell.

"It's not," he said deadpan, and a whimpering laugh escaped her lips, causing her to choke again. Scaly hands cupped her face, thumbs wiping the tears beneath her eyes as she clung to him, not yet ready to let go.

With gentle hands and comforting murmurs he guided her over to his cot, urging her to sit down, propped against the wall. She complied, but cried out when he moved away. He kept his eyes on her, as if reassuring her that he was still there, and removed his sodden jacket before reaching into one of the many panel cupboards and withdrawing a handkerchief. Of course Thane would have a handkerchief.

She took it and dabbed at her face, wiping her nose and eyes. He sat beside her and pulled her onto his lap when she was done. She shifted until she was straddling him and then melted against his chest with a sigh, tension lifted from her whole body. His heartbeat thrummed in her ear, his breathing pressed against her chest and cheek, his hands rested on her waist.

"This your first time seeing a human cry?" she mumbled.

"Not the first time, but the most vigorous." His lips moved against her hair as he spoke. "Even when a man is begging for his life he does not cry as you do, siha. I'm sorry for not seeing your pain before now."

She was awash with exhaustion now, no longer crying but trembling uncontrollably even as Thane's hand stroked her back. She should talk to him, tell him what was going on, why she had fallen apart so suddenly, but her only energy remaining was entirely devoted to listening to the rhythms of his body, a steady rise and fall that comforted her. She had never felt quite so likely to fall apart at the seams as she did at this moment.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she said.

A hand cupped her face, guiding her to look up at him. He searched her face with his eyes, so close she could almost feel the tip of her nose against his.

He closed the last inch, capturing her lips in a sweet, chaste kiss that brought the tears flooding back.

"Tell me 'maybe', siha."

Her mouth quirked and convulsed, trying to smile and howl at the same time. She had never done anything so good as to deserve him.

"Maybe," she whispered.

He released her face, letting her curl into his chest again, arms wrapped around her tightly to protect against the storm. She squeezed her eyes closed and lost herself in him, ignoring the weight of a trillion lives resting on her and allowing herself think for just a moment that she might have a happy ending waiting for her.

* * *

_I should know who I am by now,_

_I walk, the record stands somehow,_

_Thinking of winter,_

_Your name is the splinter inside me._

"_Winter" - Joshua Radin _


	9. Chapter 9

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 9**

**Watch the Fires Burning Across the River**

* * *

Bekenstein. A more wretched hive of scum and villainy... No, wait, that was Mos Eisley Spaceport. Shepard looked down over the glittering planet from the shuttle window, every rich scumbag that humanity ever produced was represented in its numbers. Herself as well, thanks to some very fancy lawyering by Kasumi and Miranda. Hock must have been spinning in his grave like a jet engine.

The estate where Quong Lai, their alleged psychic, was ensconced was one of the larger on the planet, and well defended. That is to say, it had been well defended before they'd happily watched a thousand Blue Suns dash themselves against the walls and turrets before finally breaking through to the inner compound. This wasn't their little war, but the opposing armies were providing an excellent distraction for them to sneak in.

The shuttle landed on one of the beleaguered landing pads just inside the walls, the mercs in the immediate area eyeing each other off to see which side had brought in reinforcements. When the heavily armed crew, every last one of her special ops team, piled out the moment of hesitation and confusion cost the mercs their lives, a spray of gunfire from her more enthusiastic crewmen clearing the area.

Thane had been dead right, everyone was itching to get out, and in this mess it wouldn't matter if she brought half the engineering crew as well, no one would have noticed.

"Alright, people, let's get this moving," Shepard said, raising her voice to be heard above the racket coming from the compound. "Kasumi and Legion, you're with me, we'll be stealthing it through the inner buildings. Garrus, take fire team one, Tali, Jacob and Samara, through the inner courtyard. Miranda, fire team two, Zaeed and Mordin, around the west side. Grunt, you have fire team three, Jack and Thane, you're going east. The most heavily defended point is the spire building to the far north, if I was a psychic, that's where I'd be."

The teams separated out, positioning themselves to start the mission. Shepard caught Thane's eye and nodded toward Grunt with a meaningful look. It was the krogan's first mission as a team leader, an easy one, particularly with the backup she'd given him, but she needed to make sure someone was looking out for him. The drell nodded, understanding her meaning. The whole crew was her family, but fire team three held everything she couldn't live without in the galaxy, she wouldn't accept any losses.

"Fire team one, ready," said Garrus.

"Fire team two, ready."

"Fire team three, ready."

Shepard checked her guns one last time, making sure each was secure. She looked over her shoulders, seeing Kasumi and Legion standing behind her. "Stealth team is go, let's get moving."

The fire teams charged forward, mowing down mercenaries as they went, and Shepard let them move beyond out of her sight before signalling her own team to move out. She would have done a vent run if she had Thane with her, but she wasn't letting Grunt go unescorted, so through the buildings it would be.

It reminded her of Hock's estate – now her own – with enough marble and burnished metal to border on tacky, dotted with impractical water features that did nothing but provide cover and make her need to pee. If they didn't have to auction off Hock's property for the proceeds, she was going to do some serious renovating. Maybe a few less staircases and some art that didn't look like it was mail ordered from _Generic Rich Guy Weekly_. She wondered what Kasumi did with that ogre statue.

The three of them slid along the walls, taking cover where they could, communicating only through hand signals. The bulk of the fighting force was outside, making their presence known by exploding through windows and peppering the outer walls with gunfire, but they ran into relatively little resistance. The few guards and stealth teams were quickly dispatched, a flashbang, a biotic charge and an assault drone causing enough chaos that none of them even had the chance to call for help.

Shepard led them upstairs, wanting to get a more open view of the courtyards, figure out what was going on. The upper floors were infested with snipers, spread in such a way that Kasumi had to take care of them one at a time so as not to alert anyone to the presence of a third army on the battlefield. But for all the snipers, the courtyards below were strangely quiet, the battle outside hadn't reached this point yet.

Once the snipers were taken care of, she peered out one of the windows taking stock of the scene below. About two hundred mercenaries were gathered, in military order, waiting to be set loose on the field.

A man walked between the ranks – Shepard recognised him as Lionel David, the owner of this particular estate – accompanied by his entourage. A couple of snipers, a few vanguards, and a single figure in a white cloak, the hood obscuring her face.

David walked arm in arm with the cloaked woman, undoubtedly Quong Lai, but stopped as she did. She turned, lowering her hood.

Shepard winced. Well, she hadn't expected very much from a salarian-drell halfie, but the result was less than pretty. Strangely human, too. The salarian skin colouring mixed with a largely drell bone structure gave her the approximate shape and hue of a human. Of course, the total lack of hair and rudimentary skin folds of a drell combined with a malformed pair of salarian horns did ruin the effect somewhat. Black eyes blinked upwards, then sidewards.

Then started scanning the upper windows of the complex.

"Down!" Shepard hissed, plastering herself against the wall below the window. Holy hell. They'd nearly been spotted. That bitch was psychic.

She waited a few seconds and slowly raised herself up, just enough to get a view of the courtyard again. Lai was engaged in conversation with David, gesturing down three paths. The three paths that the fire teams were taking. Oh, this was not something she'd counted on.

She hit the switch on her visor. "Shepard to fire teams, you're going to have about 70 mercs each on you in the next five minutes, try to divert your courses or put yourself behind some of the Suns."

An echoed confirmation put her slightly at ease, as long as she could hold this position and keep one step ahead of Lai and David, everything would be alright. Any one of her team was worth twenty mercs, anyway. The unusual abilities of the halfbreed were a minor diversion, nothing more. She would have been disappointed if they'd met no resistance, what kind of psychic couldn't see them coming, anyway?

Lai took David's arm again and the two ascended the stairs, retreating back into the spire that marked the stronghold of the compound. Shepard cursed. Alright, keeping one step ahead would be harder if she couldn't see them. This meant getting into the spire, which would probably mean a vent run if her teams were held up with the mercenaries.

The courtyard emptied as the small army poured out into the compound, heading for her teams and any Blue Suns on the offensive. At least this would keep Sederis off her back for a while about weakening the Suns.

"_Fire team three to Shepard, come in._"

Shepard's blood chilled. That was Thane's voice. "Shepard, go ahead."

"_Grunt has sustained a shot to his bifocal artery, we have stopped the bleeding, but we can't do much more than hold this position. He needs medical attention._"

"How did this happen?"

"_Jack was under heavy fire, he charged the mercenaries to save her._"

"You'll be killed if you stay there, get him out of the line of fire."

"_I read you, Shepard, we will get Grunt to safety._"

She took a deep breath, calming herself. Thane would look after Grunt. The mission needed all of her focus.

"Shep..." Kasumi murmured, the tone of awed horror drawing Shepard's immediate attention.

She looked out the window to the now almost empty courtyard just in time to see the shadow fall over it. With wide eyes she looked up, the distinctive shape of an Alliance cruiser nearly blotting out the sun.

"Oh, motherfucker..." Shepard whispered. Two dozen shapes emerged, falling from the cruiser and reaching terminal velocity, thrusters keeping them stable for the fall, they were doing a direct drop into the courtyard.

"_Fire team one to Shepard, we've reached the spire._"

The Alliance soldiers hit the ground and almost immediately opened fire on the few mercenaries still standing guard. Shepard saw Garrus' team emerge into the courtyard and take cover, realising that the mission parameters had changed drastically.

"Forget stealth, we have to get down there." Shepard broke cover and ran for the stairs, wishing she could use her charge to get there faster if it wouldn't leave the rest of her team behind. She pressed a hand to her earpiece. "All fire teams, there are Alliance soldiers outside the spire, do not engage, repeat, do not engage."

"Kind of hard right now, Shepard," Garrus' voice blurred between her radio and her ears as he came within earshot. A few shots rang out followed by the reloading of two dozen weapons and the removal of two dozen breather masks, a symphony of mechanical clicks and clacks. Then Garrus saying the absolute last thing she wanted to hear. "...Alenko?"

"Garrus?" Oh, that was Kaidan's voice.

"Kaidan!" cried Tali.

"Tali."

"Shepard," Garrus spotted her as she brought the stealth team alongside him.

So this was what had been left out of the dossier, it wasn't the mercenaries, or the psychic, it was the Alliance presence.

"Aria," she cursed under her breath.

"Shepard?" Kaidan asked.

"Geth!" One of the Alliance soldiers cried.

"Kaidan..." she said, holding up her hand to placate him about Legion. Kaidan waved down the upset soldier. The entire Alliance platoon was looking very confused, standing around in identical black and blue armour, looking to Kaidan for guidance that he seemed too stunned to give.

"Shepard!" Grunt limped into the courtyard and she rushed over to him. What in hell was he doing here? They were supposed to retreat to the shuttle.

"Grunt!" she cried, pressing a gloved hand to the wretched wound on his throat. He must have been in so much pain, and he'd be out of action for days. Jack and Thane collapsed against the wall in total exhaustion. She turned to them, trying to see if they were hurt or just tired. "Jack, Thane..."

"Siha," Thane greeted.

"Siha?" Kaidan picked up on the pet name instantly.

She turned to him, wincing, this was not the location for this conversation. "Kaidan..."

"Kaidan?" Thane asked.

"Miranda!" Garrus called, the second fire team bursting through into the courtyard, late to the party.

"Garrus, Shepard," Miranda greeted.

"Cerberus," growled Kaidan.

Shepard sighed. "Kaidan..."

"Doctor Scott!" cried Jack breathlessly, eliciting a peel of inappropriate laughter from Shepard. Though most of her crew didn't understand the joke, her laugh apparently clued them in to how absurd this was and a few chuckles issued forth. The Alliance didn't laugh. At all. Shepard raised an eyebrow at Kaidan, whose stone face didn't move a millimetre.

"Alright, alright," she said, clipping her shotgun to her hip and holding up her unarmed hands. "Everyone who belongs on the Normandy, please get behind me, everyone else behind Commander Alenko."

There was a general murmur of agreement and people shifted to their various sides. Thane caught her ear as he moved to stand immediately behind her with Garrus. "I'm sorry, siha, they closed in behind us, this was the path of least resistance."

She nodded, keeping her eyes on Kaidan and letting her team fall into formation – as close as they'd ever get to formation – behind her. Once everyone was properly situated she took a step forward.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Kaidan's fist clenched, openly hostile. "We got a tip that there was a mercenary disturbance at this location. What are you doing here, in Citadel space?"

Shepard bristled. His implications were clear, that she could run her shenanigans wherever she liked, except on his turf. "Funny story. I was in the neighbourhood, visiting my estate with a dozen of my closest friends, when all these mercenaries just appeared out of nowhere. Just like me to get caught in a rumble when I'm trying to have a holiday."

"Well I'll overlook the fact that the estate you 'inherited' is on the other side of the planet, do you often go on holidays wearing a hardsuit, with a rocket launcher on your back? Why are you lying to me, Shepard?"

"Why are you asking me things you know I'll have to lie about? We're both black ops, you should know better," she countered. This was getting them nowhere. She had to find a way out of this conversation and into the spire, Lai was waiting on her and every second gave the woman a chance to make her escape.

"You're not a spectre anymore, you can't just go around blasting holes in planets and not be held accountable."

"You know full well that they fired on us first, why are you being difficult?"

Kaidan sighed, body language distressed, posture tense. "Because that's the kind of thing we need an inquest to determine, you don't just get taken at your word anymore. You resigned from the Alliance and the Council, but you're still in our space acting like one of our untouchables. We both know you're not on this planet for some shore leave, you're here for something else, probably something illegal. If I was smart I would bring you back to the Citadel for trial."

Shepard fell back half a step, widening her stance, ready for a fight if it came down to that. "You know that's not going to happen."

Kaidan almost mimicked her action, falling back but in shock, not defence. He looked speechless for half a second, and when he spoke it was with such a sadness that her resolve stuttered. "You'd open fire on an Alliance unit?"

"I don't want to. You know none of us can afford for me to be taken into custody, I'm begging you, Kaidan, don't make me draw my gun."

His face softened. He was stubborn and bull headed sometimes, but he knew that she was fighting the reapers, he knew that was more important than his pride. It made her whole body cry out for him, for everything they'd had before her death.

"Come back to the Alliance, Shepard," he pleaded. "Anderson can reinstate you. We can fight this together."

The Alliance, home, safety, no more begging for scraps from criminals and warlords, leaving the negotiating to people qualified and experienced. God, it sounded tempting. Together with Kaidan, back where she belonged.

"I can't," she said, hoping he didn't hear her confidence wavering. "The reapers are almost here."

"You can." He stepped forward, almost reaching out to her. "If you were a spectre again you could continue your work in the Terminus systems. We could talk to the Council, convince them. We'll make them see the truth and you'd have a powerful ally. No more sneaking around under the radar."

She looked back at her team. The best of every species, represented here under her banner. These people had stuck by her when everyone else called her a terrorist and a traitor. They were her family. They wouldn't understand if she went back. At least not at first.

"This is where I belong now," she tried, her voice lacking resolve.

"No, it's not. I don't know what happened after the Normandy went down, but you were forced into a bad situation, I see that. You don't have to be there anymore, you don't have to scrape by, you'd have the support of a real navy behind you."

Admiral Shepard; she'd never wanted that title, never wanted to see that beacon, never wanted to be the one heaped with this responsibility. She didn't want the nightmares of human reapers or to be the only one who truly knew what the countdown on the Shepard's CIC meant, what would happen when the time expired. A real admiral, one with the experience to deal with all this, should be in charge. She'd only come into command of her first ship three years ago, and now she had an armada waiting on her.

"I..."

A hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned her head to see Thane contemplating her with dark eyes.

"Shepard, this is not a decision to be made here."

She nodded, snapping back to reality. There was an Alliance platoon ready to turn her team into a shooting gallery lineup, she couldn't be thinking like this here, now.

"Shepard, don't let them talk you out of this," Kaidan said, frustrated. "It's the right decision, you're headed down a bad path."

"How do you know what kind of path I'm on?" she asked, realising what a horribly dangerous game she was playing, getting distracted at a time like this. If there were two dozen armed men staring her down, she had to be on the defensive, no matter how sweet the promises offered were.

"You think I don't know anything about you? About the people you've picked up? I see you listening to a known assassin," Kaidan said. "Covered in mercenary blood, commanding... I can't even begin. Four criminals wanted for capital offences. Two kidnapped people, including one of Cerberus' victims. A geth, a genocidal doctor and a krogan who can't defend himself against a dozen mercenaries."

"_Don't you dare speak about my son!_"

Everything happened so fast. Her gun was in her hand. Her throat hurt from the pitch of her shriek. There was pressure around her wrist. Three dozen guns were levelled. The iron grip around her wrist loosened her fingers, her gun dropping. Her arms were pulled and pinned behind her back. She strained against the grip, baring her teeth impotently.

The world righted itself when she realised she couldn't move. Everyone was pointing their guns at everyone else and the shock of what she'd said settled over the group. She wasn't sure who she had surprised more, Kaidan, Grunt or herself. She quickly identified the hands at her wrists, holding her in place. Thane. He'd just stopped her from killing them all. God, that was mortifying, she'd just completely undermined her own authority by trying to tackle her ex-boyfriend.

"Let me go, Thane," she warned.

"I'm sorry, siha, but this is not an indiscretion you would ever forgive yourself."

He held tight and no amount of struggling would change that, so she let her body relax. She looked at Kaidan, who seemed keenly aware that he had almost died save for the intervention of an assassin. The mix of horror and disbelief on his face crushed something deep inside her chest. Maybe he was right, maybe she had changed.

The two opposing units still had their guns trained on each other, waiting for someone to give them the signal. The Normandy team would emerge victorious, she had no doubt about it. Then the Alliance would be reported missing, things would get uncovered and she'd be unable to fly anywhere in Council space. It was a time to pick her battles.

"Withdraw," Shepard rasped, her voice still hoarse from shouting.

For a moment no one moved, then the grip on her wrists loosened and she stood, her team stepping back, moving backwards so their backs were never turned on the Alliance. The promises of safety and support turned to ash, left with Alliance narrow-mindedness, Alliance xenophobia.

Shepard's eyes met Kaidan's, an unspoken understanding that the next time they met it would not be on good terms. She tore her gaze away, retreating out of the courtyard as quickly as possible. No one spoke as they made their way back to the shuttle, and any mercenaries still alive were smart enough to get the hell out of their way. The mission had been a failure, they'd have to come back once the Alliance were gone.

She caught up with Grunt and grasped his shoulder. "Don't you fucking listen to him, Grunt. A good leader takes the hit for their team, you did the right thing saving Jack."

"I know." He said. His expression was uncomfortable, like he'd bitten something sour. "I don't know what it is to have a mother, beyond the tank. But I think it would be something like this, battlemaster."

She clapped him on the shoulder once again. "I think it must be."

The squad continued further through the compound, some still hanging back to guard the rear in case the Alliance changed their stance on peaceful resolutions.

Shepard was mortified, she'd never embarrassed herself so badly in front of anyone, nearly getting talked down in front of her entire special ops team, then nearly getting them all riddled with bullets in a moment of blind anger. There was no way she could ever look them in the eye again. And Thane, oh, Thane, she'd just had an almost reunion with Kaidan right in front of him. She would have hidden her face in her hands if they weren't in a live fire situation.

"So, Shepard," Jack said, barely restraining her cheshire grin. "Thanks for defending _the rest of us_ as well."

The tension over the group broke and Shepard cuffed the tiny woman over the back of the head. "There's no excuse for you, Jack."

A few laughs. One flanging laugh in particular.

At the head of the squad, Garrus looked back. "So I think Jack is kidnap victim number one, who do you think the other is?"

"I believe that is me," said Samara, even her stoic demeanour folding into a bit of laughter. "There were some bulletins I didn't have the time to rectify, unsubstantiated rumours."

"And here we are taking you out into the open, I'm surprised you haven't made a break for it."

Shepard could have kissed Garrus. Only this crew would still give a damn about her after what they'd just seen. By the time they were halfway back to the shuttle everyone was laughing and joking amongst themselves.

On the final approach to the landing pad and the shuttle, Garrus stopped in his tracks, the halting continuing until everyone stood still, looking at their means back to the Normandy. The shuttle door was open, and a white cloaked figure sat on the floor, her legs dangling outside the craft. A travel bag sat beside her. Black eyes scanned the squad, landed on Shepard.

"I'm not psychic, I think you should know that first."

"Uh..."

"Also, I don't particularly care for Omega." The high pitched salarian whine overlayed by the drell growl was a strange combination, operating on too many frequencies to be easily understood. "But I think I'll be useful to your cause. The tracking of large scale armadas can be difficult with a limited administration team."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "That's not the best argument for not being psychic that I've ever heard."

Lai shook her head. "No, no, no, misinterpreting the facts. Drell eidetic memory and salarian neural processing, fast paced data analysis, not precognition. The facts are already decided, how we interpret them is key. You want to know the future, I can't tell you that, can only examine the present and conclude likely outcomes. You'll... be putting me on your flagship, yes?"

Shepard hadn't really thought about it, but placing Lai on the Shepard seemed like a good idea, it would keep her abreast of the events and at the heart of their communications.

"Wait, you wanted to come with us?"

Lai shook her head again, it almost seemed like a nervous tic. "Not a warlord or a mercenary, desirable circumstances. Your fight is large, though, high odds of a massacre. I change things, change the circumstances, increase odds of survival."

"Welcome aboard?" Shepard said, unable to think of anything else to say.

Lai bowed, hands folded in front of her, an old fashioned gesture. "Thank you. I just have one question. What is your name?"

* * *

_You might have heard I run with a dangerous crowd,_

_We ain't too pretty, we ain't too proud,_

_We might be laughin' a bit too loud,_

_But that never hurt no one._

_"Only The Good Die Young" - Billy Joel_


	10. Chapter 10

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 10**

**Feign Madness But Keep Your Balance**

**

* * *

**

"Kasumi, why do we have Michelangelo's David in the mess?"

The thief looked innocently back at Shepard and shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

Shepard rolled her eyes, Kasumi had been after that thing since they first saw in in Hock's vault, and clearly couldn't fit it into her quarters. They were currently on the Normandy, waiting to dock at Omega before delivering Quong Lai to the Shepard. It was, as usual, a practise in stupidity, as she'd learned long ago that twelve deadly specialists had to be kept entertained or she ended up with priceless antiques in the mess.

"Transfer it to the Shepard when we dock, am I understood?"

"But it looks so good where it is," Kasumi pouted.

"Am I understood?" Shepard repeated with a meaningful look. Kasumi nodded grudgingly. "Good. Let's at least pretend this is a military operation instead of the galaxy's worst daycare."

She had been on her way to the comm room when she'd been sidetracked by a little piece of the renaissance, their new psychic had been locked in there all day and she was interested to see what conclusions she'd formed. Thane and Mordin had been in there with her, helping to interpret the fast paced babble, not as quick as Mordin but lacking the common sense. Clearly the ability to live and experience a dozen memories at once had left her a bit odd.

She was almost at the elevator when she had to stop again. "Hey, hey! You two!"

Jack and Zaeed looked up from where they were grappling, somehow the tiny biotic had wrangled the mercenary into a headlock.

"What?" Jack asked.

"Training rooms or cargo bay. And please, don't kill each other. Wait, didn't I tell you to keep an eye on Grunt?"

"We are," Zaeed protested. "That's why we're not in the training rooms or cargo bay."

Shepard threw up her hands, this was not a battle she could win, instead she pointed at them threateningly as she left the room. "You hurt David and Kasumi will go all 'hell hath no fury' on your asses."

The elevator dinged at the CIC and she didn't even look to see what havoc was being wreaked by her bored crew on this deck. If she found one more unauthorised cavity search going on, Kelly was getting spaced. If said cavity search turned up anymore red sand, worse was going to happen.

She was surprised to see Mordin in his lab, working on something, and immediately cursed. That meant Thane was alone with Lai. She had strict rules about leaving people alone with the latest psychopath, after that incident with Jack.

"Mordin?" she asked.

"Shepard. Good. Wanted to talk. Medical matters."

"Medical...?"

"Aware that mission is dangerous. Different species react differently to stress. Sexual activity normal as stress release. Still, recommend caution with Thane. Drell/human liaisons complex. Thane complex as well."

What? No. Oh, no, this was not happening. Who the fuck let Mordin get bored? He was the worst of any of them. And now he wanted to tell her about the drell birds and human bees.

He apparently took her stunned silence as curiosity, because he continued. "Prolonged human to drell skin contact can cause small rash, itching. Oral contact may cause mild hallucinations. Also forwarding advice booklet to your quarters. Valuable diagrams, positions comfortable for both species, erogenous zone overviews."

Mordin did not just say the words 'erogenous zone' to her. This was not happening. She'd died back on Bekenstein and gone to hell. Or she'd come into oral contact with a drell without realising it and was hallucinating.

"Can supply oils or ointments to reduce discomfort," Mordin went on. "Gave EDI electronic relationship aid demonstration vids to use as necessary."

Shepard willed the floor beneath her feet to open up and swallow her.

"You're fucking with me," she said.

"Shocking suggestion. Doctor patient confidentiality a sacred trust. Would never dream of mockery," Mordin said in a tone of voice that suggested he would, in fact, dream of mockery. "Enjoy yourself while possible, Shepard. Will be here studying cell reproduction. Much simpler. Less alcohol and mood music required."

A horrible thought popped into her head. "Mordin, have you had this talk with Thane?"

"Of course. Interspecies relations dangerous for both parties. Responsible as doctor for crew's safety."

She was going to keelhaul him. Her face was burning, and now she had to go be in a small room with Thane and someone she'd met about five hours ago. And Mordin had already had this talk with him. Alright, she would have paid to see the look on his face, but that was hardly the point.

"Just... just out of curiosity, and I know I'm going to regret this, but what did you tell him?"

Mordin looked up from where he was already working again. "Warned him of human muscle convulsions, excessive thigh strength likely to cause injury in certain positions. Tendency to claw and bite, or cause other injury as foreplay. Lack of throat spines."

Well that didn't half make it sound like sex with humans would maim him. Wait, drell didn't claw or bite during sex? Wait...

"Throat spines? As in, internal? Drell have spiky throats? So he's never had a..?"

"Cannot speculate on Thane's proclivities. Throats coated in short spiked ridges to aid in digestion. Very dangerous for internal contact. Some drell become distressed at the suggestion of oral contact. Think their partner wants to injure them."

Hang on, she wasn't sleeping with Thane! She wasn't planning to! This was outrageous. And a little fascinating. "We'll continue this discussion later."

"Of course, Shepard."

He was already distracted, and she headed for the comm room, forgetting that Thane was inside until she opened the door and nearly jumped out of her skin. He raised one brow, cool and not flustered by the conversation he had to know she had just been having. Shepard offered him an embarrassed smile before turning her attention to Lai, who had squarely covered every single surface of the room with datapads.

The halfbreed was staring at one datapad, wide-eyed wonder undisguised on her face, like she was reading the meaning of life. Shepard quietly moved behind her, seeing that she was reading a shipping manifest from Illium.

"You know we usually let people settle in before we make them save the galaxy," Shepard said. "You don't have to be doing this now, the Shepard is better equipped for your needs."

Lai shook her head vigorously. "Fascinating, _fascinating_, couldn't put it down if I wanted to. Mass relay warfare, state of the art, totally untried. Working through deception and trickery, _fascinating_. Reapers, Protheans, this information isn't available anywhere else, an entire world hidden where I couldn't see it."

Shepard gently pried the datapad out of her hands, forcing the woman to stop reading so obsessively. "So I'm not quite clear on this whole not-psychic thing. What exactly do you do?"

Lai's compulsive head shake turned into an uncertain bob, as if she wasn't sure how to answer the question. "Mr. Krios, what was the first thing you ever heard me say?"

"I'm not psychic, I think you should know that first," Thane answered immediately as expected, perfect drell memory to the rescue.

"And the first thing Admiral Shepard said when she entered this room?"

Thane paused. "Something about letting you settle in."

Shepard widened her eyes in surprise. He couldn't remember.

"No cause for concern, the memory hasn't formed yet, still in the subconscious mind, filtering out superfluous detail, enhancing elements that evoke emotional response, the memory will become consciously accessible in about ten minutes. I will never be able to access those infallible memories consciously. Salarian thoughts work much faster, never filter out the detail, build up millions, billions, trillions of facts on a subconscious level."

"So what's the point of knowing all of this if you can't access any of it?" Shepard asked.

Lai bobbed her head again. "Difficult to explain, uncommon concept. I subconsciously form connections, do calculations, providing facts without discernible basis but of unerring accuracy. Able to track thousands of avenues at once without affecting conscious stability. Might be called intuition. You have approximately 135,000 hair follicles on your head, that's unusual for someone of your colouring, more common for humans with yellow hair. Have you not shed recently?"

The woman reached out, snagging a lock of Shepard's apparently unusually thick hair and examining it. "Uh... humans don't really shed like that."

"Hmm, more information. If I could get access to more data on the protheans it would help me construct a working model for the paths of invasion the reapers will use. I've been in very little contact with your species. Do the coloured markings around the eyes denote particular genetic traits? Is the lack of markings considered a birth defect in females?"

Up close Lai seemed like an extremely curious goldfish. Shepard tried to disentangle herself without being rude, a feat since part of her hair was still snagged around the woman's fingers.

"It's makeup, like turian facial markings."

"And the black, does that indicate an unwillingness to mate, as opposed to brighter colours?"

"Not... um... not specifically. There's no meaning related to the colour. It's just personal preference."

"Interesting."

Lai became distracted and picked up another datapad, instantly absorbed. Well, wasn't this just the day for uncomfortable conversations? Shepard exchanged an exasperated glance with Thane, who looked more than a little amused by her discomfort. Clearly her assessment of Lai as 'a little odd' had been generous.

"Well... once we get you over to the Shepard you'll be able to talk to Dr. T'Soni who spent fifty years studying the protheans, I'm sure she can give you the information that you need. Thane, could I borrow you? I need some help in the CIC."

Thane nodded his agreement, offered an apology to Lai and followed her out. Through the med lab. Where Mordin gave them a _look_ that made her face heat up again. Trust the salarian to take something totally innocent and make her feel dirty about it. Next time they had free time she was going to institute a training regime or something, these people with time on their hands were dangerous.

Out in the CIC Kelly was innocuously staring at her terminal, though Shepard was sure there was nothing innocent about what she was looking at. She turned to Thane.

"I didn't really need any help, I just thought you might like an escape."

He smiled and bowed his head graciously. "She is quite high energy."

"Well feel free to say I kept you all afternoon. I'm going to go catch a nap before Omega." She waved him goodbye and hit the elevator. That was also a lie, she wasn't going to be able to sleep ever again, but she had to get to her cabin before someone else tried to blow her mind.

Her bed looked tempting, her close encounter with Kaidan and the afternoon with her crew had mentally exhausted her, but physically she wasn't tired enough to sleep, so instead she fed her fish and contemplated the aquarium. Still so much to do. Their time was ticking away and there was only so much she could do to make sure they were prepared.

If it were up to her she would have recruited an army that numbered in the billions, a fleet that could blot out the sun. No point fretting about resources she didn't have, she had to work with what she did have. Without all that time on her hands she had to pick and choose what to do, and this afternoon what she could do was a great big nothing.

With a sigh she slumped down at her terminal and started flicking through messages. Nothing important, all of her operations were running on complete blackout, nothing was transmitted or stored, just datapads that were physically picked up and delivered. So the messages she received were the usual thanks and accolades, something from an Alliance rep wanting to get the last of her paperwork cleared up.

One message in particular made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. Mordin's instructional vids.

She wasn't stupid enough to think that nothing could happen with Thane. Despite her reservations and reasons she was attracted to him and immune to neither emotional weakness nor alcohol. It would only be responsible to take a look, Mordin had made the entire endeavour sound quite dangerous. If she broke Thane's hip because she was tripping that would at the very least make breakfast an awkward affair.

There were a dozen different info sheets and booklets, some of which had terrifying titles that made her wonder exactly what Mordin thought she was planning to do with their drell team mate. _Cultural Roleplaying Experiences_ was immediately deleted. She liked Thane, but she wasn't going to play drell for him even if he was into that. Hell, what _was_ he into? That was not a question she liked to contemplate about her crew, especially this crew. What if he was into ropes? Whips? Crazy positions? Public places? What if he _wasn't_?

Shepard slapped a hand over her eyes and took a deep breath. There was no use in working herself up to thinking that Thane would consider her a freak. That was not constructive.

She looked over each of her shoulders, as if someone had somehow sneaked into her quarters without her noticing, then turned back to the console. Alright, there was one vid of some drell on drell, that was probably a good place to start. For reference. Knowing how she differed from a female drell was just as important as knowing how he differed from a male human. This was just for reference and not because she was unbearably curious about drell bodies.

She clicked the vid with a wince, mentally preparing herself to be shocked.

Shepard cocked her head as the vid started. She didn't know that drell came in such different colours. Yellow drell were very pretty. And very... flat. She self consciously pressed her hands against her breasts, as if to flatten them against her chest. A quick glance backwards at her ass. Female drell apparently did not have much in the way of asses. She did. Something squishy. Oh, this was making her feel so squishy and... Wow, those stripes really did go all the way down. And those ridges went all the way up.

She pressed a hand against her gaping mouth to suppress a whimper. This was a porn star, she reminded herself, that was not something she would be expected to fit inside her. Still she couldn't help but cross her legs in anticipated pain. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating with a mechanical grind. Female drell had _no external genitalia_. None. Not a single fold or bulge or protuberance of any kind. Oh, God.

Wow, they really didn't do the legs-around-the-hips thing, she'd thought all species did that. But then how did they... oh, like that. She cocked her head in the other direction, hand still against her mouth. Did drell sweat? She was sure they did, Thane's smelled like mango, which was just unfair. These two didn't look like they sweated, and they wouldn't if they didn't get to the point, all they seemed interested in doing was a bit of rocking and stroking and heavy breathing.

…Oh. They had gotten to the point. They were at the point. No wonder they didn't claw or bite, they were barely moving!

Mordin. This had to be Mordin's misinformation. He'd sent her girl porn, more about the tenderness and emotional connection than crazy sex up against a wall. She could see why the salarian would do that, he probably thought this was the civilised thing, less messy fluids and wounds to treat in the morning.

That had to be it. Please, God, let that be it.

She closed down the porn, looking for the human on human.

The instant she clicked the vid her cabin was filled with dramatic moans and shouts, as well as the sound of a table repeatedly hitting the wall behind it. Shepard jumped and slammed her console shut, closing the video.

_Oh, God_. That was actually how drell had sex. If she got the slightest bit excited around Thane he was going to think she was a _freak_. A sweating, howling, feral animal. For her to be that composed during sex she would have to be _unconscious_. She had been known to get more excited over particularly good waffles.

She cradled her head in her hands, bemoaning her fate as a lumpy, monotone, thunder thighed mammal prone to howling at the ceiling.

"_Shepard?_"

Shepard jumped a foot in the air, on her feet instantly and looking around before realising that the voice had come through the comm. She sucked in a deep breath to calm her heart, which had just tried to leap out of her throat.

"Joker, were you spying on me... again?"

"_Wouldn't dream of it, Commander. Also wouldn't dream of putting the footage on the extranet as the funniest thing I've ever seen._"

"You'd be unusually easy to hunt down and kill, Joker. Remember that," she growled.

"_I'll keep it in mind. Just thought you'd like to know we've docked at Omega._"

"Thanks."

Shepard shook herself, clearing some of the shock and horror from her system and composing herself as the grown up captain of a real ship. Alright, Omega, tons of stuff to get done, she had to be on the ball. And prepare herself to never, ever look Thane in the eye again.

She was going to kill Mordin.

* * *

_Filmstar,_

_Living it fast, giving it class,_

_It looks so easy._

_Filmstar,_

_Living it fast,_

_Giving it class tonight._

"_Filmstar" - Suede_


	11. Chapter 11

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 11**

**Sacrifice the Plum Tree to Preserve the Peach Tree**

**

* * *

**

"These fuckers are praetorians. They will kill you fucking dead. Unless you have a rocket launcher, you leave that shit to the krogans."

Shepard sat at the back of the lecture hall, wondering how exactly Jack had convinced Samara to let her give this lesson. The asari sat primly to the side of the podium surveying the assembled biotics, mostly commandos or Eclipse mercs. The strike teams had been divided by class, each consisting of two biotics, three krogans, a sniper, a tech specialist, a stealth expert and two suppressors. If the team could dock with a Reaper and get inside, it was an almost guaranteed kill.

Getting them inside was going to be the trick, but that was why they had an admiral taking care of the problem.

"Don't just stare at me, write that down," Jack said. "Praetorians. Will. Kill. You. Fucking. Dead. I don't want to see anyone trying to be a goddamn badass, warping their armour or charging them or whatever. You see one of these, you take cover and stay out of the krogans' way. That is your fucking job with these things."

Shepard snickered as the commando in front of her faithfully wrote down the notes. _Praetorians will kill you fucking dead. Leave that shit to the krogans._

The ground forces were actually taking these informal lectures with admirable grace, the majority paying attention despite their unusual teachers. The crew of the _Normandy_ had enough of a reputation to command respect even amongst the Matriarchs' commandos.

Shepard slipped out of the lecture hall, Jack's speech following.

"You would have to be retarded to get killed by a husk. If you're retarded, now is the time to leave."

Well, this could all be going a lot worse. Miranda was holed up on the _Shepard_ splitting their forces into strike teams – a job that Shepard herself was thankfully excused from – and within the week they'd have a functioning army. Most of the ships had been provided by the geth, small strike cruisers and stealth vessels. The _Shepard_ itself was becoming a mobile Reaper termination base, everything a person could want to kill a mechanical god.

She made for the elevator, pausing briefly outside the krogan lectures. Now there was a job she couldn't be paid to do.

"One charge will free you from a husk swarm. If you are killed by a husk, you're useless to me; better to die than pollute the galaxy with your presence," Grunt was saying. "Scions are slow moving. They use biotic attacks. A true krogan should not even stumble. If you get killed by a scion, you are useless to me, to Battlemaster Shepard and to clan Urdnot."

Ah, there was her baby boy. Krogan motivational speeches, they never grew old.

Unfortunately, it wasn't her baby boy that was the problem today. She'd be giving the suppressor lecture herself, except Thane had received a distressing message from Kolyat saying that he wanted to join the navy. Kids. She technically couldn't stop him, but she was sure as hell going to try. The last thing she needed was Kolyat on the front lines – neither she nor Thane would be able to concentrate, things would get confused, and God help her if he died.

So she had managed to arrange a meeting, see if she could talk sense into the kid. She'd spoken to the young drell once or twice since their first meeting; he seemed to accept her presence as his father's commanding officer as much as any teenager accepted an authority figure.

"It's perfectly alright to hide behind the geth in a harbinger situation," Tali's voice drifted out to her as she passed. "Machine gun fire will follow and the last thing you want is an exosuit puncture."

Legion cocked his head. "Hide behind a barrier instead, if possible."

The entire Exodus region had been cleaned up, and it was safe to walk the streets without a gun. The most important of the diplomats and ambassadors working on the Reaper operations were already on the station. Aria had stayed true to her word and the area was habitable. Shepard had stayed true to her word and the inhabitants were rather rich. The first of her crew's family were coming in, though most were putting it off until the last minute to avoid disrupting their lives more than necessary. She wasn't sure if she should be grateful that they had such faith in her or infuriated that they weren't taking the threat seriously. She'd wait another week before kidnapping them.

Kolyat had been situated in the middle of the area. His position as Bailey's aide was prestigious in this situation, affording him some of the better accommodations and, from what she'd heard, a hefty salary. Aria had made some snide remark about the step-child getting preferential treatment, which Shepard had promptly ignored. He was doing good work.

She knocked on the door to one of the apartments, hoping she'd remembered the number correctly. Everything on Omega looked the same.

Kolyat answered and let her inside without a greeting, dark eyes heavy with scepticism. She followed him into the darkened apartment, noting that he was looking like a real teenager, leathers abandoned in favour of a shirt and jeans. The same easy confidence as his father, minus the years of grief and battle sleep.

He gestured for her to sit down at a table and poured two cups of coffee, sliding one across to her – black, no sugar – then joined her.

They sat, nursing their drinks, for a long, silent moment.

"Do you visit all potential recruits personally?" he finally asked.

She shrugged, eyes on her coffee. "It's a tough job, but someone has to do it."

That earned her a soft laugh, a rumbling sound that she wished she could hear from Thane.

"You can't talk me out of this."

She laughed softly and without humour. "Despite what Thane thinks, I'm not here to talk you out of it. We're taking every recruit we can get, and my own son is fighting, so it would be pretty hypocritical of me to refuse to take you. I'm just here to talk to you, make sure you understand the situation."

"You're here because you're fucking my father," he said, just as she took a sip of her coffee.

Shepard choked, the coffee making its way into her nasal passage and causing her to splutter. She coughed, recovered, and laughed loudly. "Most people have at least some kind of rocket launcher handy before they mouth off to me like that."

"You're not going to kill me."

"Probably not. But the reworking of Omega's sewage system needs a field inspector, so don't tempt me."

Kolyat scowled. "Fine, give me whatever speech you have lined up. It's not going to make any difference."

She sipped at her coffee, letting the silence drag out a little. Bloody teenagers. She'd been just like him – queueing at the Alliance recruiter on her eighteenth birthday, ready to follow Anderson into the breach just to feel like she was fighting back against all the unfair things in the galaxy, to feel closer to the man who was like a father.

"Why do you want to join the navy?"

He clearly hadn't expected that question. "I... the Reapers are here. I can't just sit back and do nothing. Everyone who can carry a gun is fighting."

"And you feel like you're not doing enough here? Is Bailey underusing you?"

"No." Kolyat let out a frustrated sigh. "Do you know what it's like on Omega? People come in two types: refugees and killers. You're either a merc or a soldier, or you're a refugee, hiding behind a krogan so you don't get killed."

Ah, so he hadn't thought this through at all. No use upsetting him by trying to poke holes in his argument, he'd just get defensive and close down. Instead Shepard nodded, looking interested, as if she was conceding his point.

"Three types," she amended. "Refugees, killers, and krogans."

Kolyat scoffed, rolling his coffee mug between his hands. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not a krogan."

"That's what they said about me when I first landed on Tuchanka. Now I'm an Urdnot Battlemaster. Kill a thresher maw on foot and things change."

"Great, I'll go find one," Kolyat snarked, curling his upper lip in derision. "You don't understand. You're just like my father, trying to protect me when you know nothing about me."

"And you're just like my son, arguing the goddamn point with someone who knows better, only I'm being nice enough not to headbutt you for it."

"I'm not your son," he hissed.

Oops, hit a sore spot. She should have expected that. Still, it was time for him to harden up.

"No, you're not. My son would have the good sense to realise that my protection is not something to scoff at. You want to get out there, on the field, because it's glorious. You can turn to everyone you know and say 'I was there, I fought the Reapers, I laid down my life to defend the galaxy'. Well guess what? That isn't selfless, it's the very epitome of selfish."

"What the hell would you know?"

"I know that if Omega falls, then there is no armada, no number of soldiers that can make it right again. We're fighting out there to protect what is here. Everything that matters to me, to my crew, to everyone in that army, is right here, and you want to abandon it. That is not acting like a soldier."

Kolyat's eyes narrowed, his lip twitching in a snarl. Oh, she'd pissed him off but good now. She raised one eyebrow, challenging him, and took a long drink of her coffee. She had daily training in dealing with petulant teens, this one wouldn't break her.

"Who cares about this hellhole? The krogans will stop people getting killed, they don't need me here."

"_I_ care about this hellhole. Look at me, Kolyat." She met his eyes, holding his gaze, boring into him. "A soldier's work isn't glorious. It's messy, it's underhanded and it's scary."

"I'm not afraid!"

"Well you should be. I'm scared shitless. So is everyone on the _Normandy_ and the _Shepard_. Some of us have faced war for a decade, some for a millennium. We know what's coming and we're afraid. Not just for ourselves. We're scared because all the people we're fighting for, all the people we love, could die, or worse. We're scared so we put them in a place like this and pray that someone else will take care of them, because we can't. You're in a position to do something that none of us can, and you're pissing it against the wall. Thank whatever gods you pray to that you're not my son, because Thane is the only reason I am not pistol whipping you black and blue right now."

That seemed to shock a little sense into him. He jerked back at the table, his coffee sloshing over his hands, pout firmly etched onto his face. There was a hell of a lot of anger in this kid, and she couldn't blame him for that.

"Nice speech," he said, looking like he actually meant it.

"Thanks."

He contemplated his hands, than looked up at her. "Krogan, huh?"

"It's not a species, it's a state of mind. Standing between Omega and these refugees takes a quad, Krios."

He half smiled, the idea settling on him. "Like Aria."

"Exactly like Aria," she smiled back at him. "You're doing good work here. I appreciate it. My crew can keep their heads in the game because they're not worrying. We all have complete faith in you."

His smile grew and she knew she'd won. Kolyat Krios would live to see another day.

Some thought must have crossed his mind because he frowned, looking away again. She peered at him curiously but didn't ask; he's say what was on his mind when he was ready.

"How is he?" the drell asked.

Shepard's own smile fell. Thane had a coughing fit just that morning. The information blackout made it difficult for father and son to communicate. "Deteriorating. But stable, for now."

"How long does he have?"

"Another month, maybe two, before he's out of action. He's hoping to be able to see out the war, Doctor Chakwas thinks that's optimistic. I'm not sleeping with him, just so you know."

"Good. Mom wouldn't want... She wouldn't want to be forgotten."

Shepard bowed her head in respect for the dead. "You know that's not going to happen."

"Sometimes I don't know. I don't even know who he is sometimes." Kolyat cradled his head in his hands. This was hard for him, she'd been there.

"He loves you, and Irikah." Shepard tried, but Kolyat gave her a sceptical look. "Oh, come on. You know he does."

"Then why do I keep hearing rumours about him and you?"

Ah, dammit. She'd come here all primed up from an invigorating 'duty and faith' talk, not an 'I'm screwing around with your father' talk. She could sympathise, though. Survivor's guilt was hard, and she wrote the book on it.

"Kolyat... My parents died when I was a little younger than you are now. And my friends. And everyone else. But I found more people to love. And then they all died. But the third time... the third time _I_ was the one who died. Alright, this isn't coming out how I wanted it to."

"No kidding."

She pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to think. He didn't look very amused by her inability to speak. "I loved my father more than any girl should. I was a complete daddy's girl. Commander Anderson rescued me from Mindoir and he looked after me until I was old enough to join the Alliance. I loved my father, but I knew that he wouldn't have wanted me to be without someone to guide me, to care for me. I never knew Irikah, and from what I understand that's my loss, but I don't think she would have wanted Thane to be lonely forever because she died. I don't think she'd want that for you, either."

Kolyat scrutinised her, eyes fluttering. She met his gaze evenly, not giving away the churning in her gut.

"I thought you said you weren't sleeping with him."

"I'm not. But I care for him, and he for me."

The teenager nodded. "Alright."

Shepard stood up, "So, I think that's everything. Thanks for the coffee, I have politicians to argue with. Nice seeing you again, Kolyat. I'll show myself out."

"Shepard," he nodded to her, obviously contemplating the many things she'd left him with.

She took the dark hallway to the door and headed out into the dank streets of Omega. The cool outside air hit her, creeping down under her suit and she sighed with relief. Hanging out with drell was an exercise in heat endurance.

To her surprise Thane was standing outside, awaiting her. He looked a nervous wreck, pacing, eyes fluttering, hand rubbing the back of his neck. She would have thought he was in a hospital waiting room rather than the middle of Omega. She was almost offended. He didn't think she could talk Kolyat out of joining the navy? She'd talked Saren into blowing his own brains out. He hadn't even noticed her yet. There was no sign quite like Thane losing track of his surroundings to tell her that he was out of sorts.

"Thane?" she asked.

"Siha," he breathed, taking the distance between them in two long strides.

"The lectures are finished already?"

"Please, siha, put me out of my misery," he begged. "Is Kolyat safe?"

She smiled, rolling her eyes playfully. "Who do you think you're talking to? I think I've made him a lifelong administrator."

Without warning he pulled her into a fierce hug, hands trembling with relief. She returned the hug, resting her cheek against the soft leather of his jacket and not particularly minding that he was crushing the air out of her. He smelled a lot nicer than Omega, anyway. A hand stroked her hair, she could almost feel his gratitude radiating through the touch.

"This is the second time you've saved my son," he whispered.

She opened her mouth to speak but all of a sudden he pulled back just enough to press his mouth to hers and her words turned into a decadent moan. Her eyes fluttered closed and she fell into the kiss, suddenly legless.

The kiss was amazing, hot, open, the kind of kiss that involved the swelling of orchestral music and an epic lens flare. He tasted like chilli chocolate, sweet and spicy, rough tongue leaving her mouth tingling like pop rocks. Her hands fisted in his jacket, she pulled his lower lip between her teeth, seeking more of him, before giving in once again to his demands, his jaw working, lips snagging hers, sucking, licking, loving.

Shepard faintly heard the distinctive click of a photo being taken, but she wouldn't have cared if al-Jilani and the entire news team had been standing right next to her. The whole world was spinning, Thane the only thing keeping her feet on the ground, an arm around her waist, pulling her close, one hand in her hair, cradling her. A groan that reverberated deep in his chest nearly buckled her knees, and he broke the kiss to wrap his other arm around her, keeping her from falling.

A whimper escaped Shepard's lips at the loss of contact and she stared into his eyes, their faces so close that she could see his irises. Their breath intermingled, coming in hard, short puffs, and she nearly forgot where they were until the murmur of onlookers broke the moment.

She looked around, stepping back as far as she could bear and readjusting her hair. They had attracted more than a few spectators, but what was far, far worse was that those spectators were purple. She might have forgotten about the hallucinogenic qualities of drell.

"Commander Shepard?" one asked.

Shepard looked at Thane, then back at the purple crowd they'd drawn, every last one of them wielding omni-tools.

"Motherfucker."

* * *

_My heart is racing as you're moving closer  
You take me higher with every breath I take  
Would it be wrong to stay? _

"_Take Me On The Floor" - The Veronicas_


	12. Chapter 12

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 12**

**Toss Out a Brick to Get a Jade Gem**

**

* * *

**

Flux was always crowded, easy to get lost in. Kaidan didn't usually indulge, but it had been a hell of a couple of weeks. Shepard had tried to kill him. Maybe she wouldn't have killed him, but if the drell hadn't caught her in time he wouldn't have walked off Bekenstein pretty. He was meeting Tali in just a few days on Illium, but her reassurances were ringing hollow after the relay quarians had received a delivery in the form of a miniature mass relay. It was the fruit of their efforts, they claimed, brought to the Citadel for comparison with the working relay.

All in all it added up to him needing a drink. He'd declined the company of any of the _Tobruk_ officers, not a one of them could understand what had happened over the past month. None of them had known Shepard before she defected. They didn't know how far she'd fallen.

He had just managed to get a drink when he saw a familiar form in the crowd. A female turian cut between people, scanning the room for someone. He knew he had seen her before, but couldn't place her. She looked suspicious, constantly glancing over her shoulder as if being followed.

Kaidan sighed. He couldn't even get away from everything in a bar, there was no hope left for the galaxy. He approached the turian resignedly and was going to ask if she was looking for someone, but before she noticed him she seemed to find whom she was looking for and slid into a booth next to a human man. They didn't seem to know each other. The booth behind them was empty, so Kaidan took it, sitting just within earshot.

"Good evening, ma'am," the man said. "Are you a registered member of Exodus?"

"Solana Vakarian," she replied.

Of course. Garrus' sister, she'd been at Shepard's funeral. She sounded stressed, anxious. He wished he could see her expression.

"Ah, first priority. You have another travelling with you, yes?"

"My mother; she needs medical care."

"Dr. Daniel Abrams is the head of medicine at the Exodus medical centre. He'll need all your mother's medical records on analogue datapads."

"Yes, I have them."

It sounded like she was going somewhere important – people didn't just move ill relatives around for no reason. As far as Kaidan knew Garrus' family lived on Palaven; what was she even doing on the Citadel? And where was Exodus?

"Good, good. You have passage booked on the _PVN Defrahnz_, which will leave in two days at 8am local time from the main docks. Did Officer Vakarian provide you with the list of contraband?"

"Yes. Is all this really necessary?" Solana asked.

"Absolutely. Breaking contraband will have you and your family immediately excluded from Exodus. I've been asked to reiterate to all comers that broadcasting devices, any item with an extranet or infrared connection, and any omni-tool newer than a GL-6.4 are strictly forbidden."

"How will we be able to contact our families?"

"Public terminals and GL-6.4 or older omni-tools will be connected unless a station-wide blackout is declared. During blackout, information officers will be available to report on damage to civilian areas and provide casualty lists."

Solana sighed heavily. "I can't believe Garrus talked me into this."

"This is for your own safety, ma'am. Your brother is right to get you off Palaven. Just a few more things and I'll let you be on your way."

"Alright, let's get this over with."

"I have to remind you that the entire station is under martial law, and the enforcing army constitutes krogans. Any anti-social or otherwise disruptive behaviour will be met with severe force. Communications are to be limited to the strictly necessary, and you are not, for any reason, to relay your location to anyone outside Exodus. If there are other people you would like brought in, Officer Vakarian can help you with that. You are not to personally direct anyone to the station."

Martial law? Kaidan was utterly absorbed in the conversation behind him. Wherever they were talking about had krogans suppressing the civilian population, which was completely illegal.

"Great. Anything else?"

"I suggest both you and your mother read the information provided to you very thoroughly. The _Defrahnz _will dock with the _Shepard_ approximately two days after it leaves the Citadel, at which point you will be allowed to see Officer Vakarian before being taken on to Exodus. You may leave Exodus any time except during blackout. Here are your tickets. Have a pleasant journey."

Solana Vakarian muttered a few choice words and that was apparently the end of the conversation. He saw her storm past his booth, tickets in hand, and was left to wonder what new scheme Shepard had cooked up that Garrus was blindly following as always.

* * *

"Oh, my," Shepard stopped at a shop front, hypnotised by the display.

Illium was buzzing per usual, but today they weren't at the weaponry displays or checking out new hardsuits. She had a peace conference to attend, and she had to blend in to get close to Arrius – black leather or a catsuit wouldn't cut it. So for the first time in living memory, she was going clothes shopping.

"I didn't know you were into shoes, Shepard," Miranda said.

Her choices for shopping buddies were a little limited. Kasumi's choice of black dress had won her a place, and Miranda had great hair, so she had to know something about style.

Shepard turned to the ex-Cerberus operative, slightly offended. "I _am_ female, you know."

"Yeah, but you're not a girly girl, Shep," said Kasumi, mouth twisted into a sly grin.

"You've only ever seen me in uniform or in something you've forced onto me. How would you know?" She turned back to the shoes. They were exceedingly pretty. It wasn't like she could wear them on missions, but if the Reapers were going to kill them all, she deserved to have a great ass just one more time before she died.

"I didn't pick you for a stiletto girl. Maybe beaded flats or something."

"Do you think those black ones would be too much?"

Kasumi looked like the cat that ate the canary. "Those ones? Do you have something on your mind, Shep? Because a girl wearing those is only looking for one thing."

"I think I can guess," said Miranda, and the short chuckle as she finished speaking made Shepard look around.

Miranda's eyebrows were brushing her hairline, her eyes fixed on a news terminal across the way. One that quite clearly showed Shepard with her tongue down Thane's throat in the middle of Omega.

_Rogue Spectre Shepard caught in compromising position__!_ The terminal proudly announced. _Commander Shepard: Anti-human? Or just xenosexual?_

Shepard pressed a hand to her eyes and groaned. "What network is this?"

"Westerlund," Miranda said. "Citadel Galactic."

"So you're saying that everyone in Council space now knows I've been sucking face with Thane?"

"That's optimistic. Westerlund covers Omega as well."

Shepard groaned again. Not exactly how she was planning on breaking the news of her entanglement. Liara would be pissed that she wasn't the first to know. Pretty much everyone on the Citadel would just be pissed. This would have been funny if everything with Thane wasn't so new and confusing and if she really knew where she stood with him. Kolyat was going to be _pissed_. Alright, it was kind of funny regardless.

"So, Commander Shepard," said Kasumi, holding her pistol like a microphone. "Are you anti-human, or just xenosexual?"

She pointed the butt of the pistol in Shepard's direction, somehow keeping a perfectly straight face, one eyebrow arched, shoulders squared. It was such a perfect impression of al-Jilani that Shepard couldn't help but start laughing. "Depends on the human."

"And the alien, I'd hope," said Miranda.

"Give me Thane over Udina any day. Hell, I'd take Quib Quib. Wait, I have a solution to this problem." She reached into one of her ammo packs and removed a marble-sized device. "Check this out."

She squeezed the marble and held it out on her flattened palm. The terminal buzzed and started broadcasting static. Perfect.

"What in the world is that?" Miranda picked up the device and examined it.

"Sensor bomb. Just arrived in this morning's Flotilla delivery. It broadcasts interference across the spectrum, makes any synthetic device think it's in a black hole. God bless those eccentric quarians."

"Uh, Shep?" Kasumi said. "How much of Illium did you just knock out?"

"Not very much, this is just a prototype. Maybe a couple of shops. The rachni are currently planting minefields of these at expected Reaper targets. They only last about five minutes, enough time for our strike teams to dock without being noticed."

"And won't these affect us just as much as the Reapers?"

"Of course. But we have one thing the Reapers don't."

"Which is?"

Shepard cocked her head, laughing. "Eyes."

As she finished speaking the terminal flickered back to life, still broadcasting that damned footage of her and Thane, eliciting a fresh peel of laughter from her companions.

She led them, still laughing, away from the terminal and the shoe store with one last wistful look at the black CFM heels. They were supposed to be dress shopping, and those weren't appropriate for a peace conference or really anything outside a BDSM club or a porno. Maybe once she'd embraced this whole 'sexual deviant' thing.

Kasumi led them into a shop a little more along the lines of what they needed. Shepard didn't think she'd ever seen an asari turn the shade of purple that the shop assistant turn on seeing three heavily armed women in catsuits walk into her shop, giggling like idiots. Shepard held up her hands, showing that she wasn't drawing her gun. "Just here to shop."

Miranda and Kasumi were already pulling things off hangers and holding them up for inspection. Shepard ran her fingers over the fabrics, savouring the feel of the cushioned hangers, it had been so long since she'd actually been able to go into a store and buy something that wasn't heavy artillery.

"So, Shepard, is it a drell thing, or a Thane thing?" Miranda asked.

"What?"

"You know, your thing."

"Amazingly descriptive. It's a Thane thing." As a staunch pro-human activist, she should have guessed that Miranda wouldn't understand the whole interspecies deal. "Seriously, check out drell porn sometime. It's... disquieting."

"I'm not sure I'd ever want to describe my sex life as disquieting," Kasumi said, then held up a dress. "How about this one?"

"Green would wash her out," Miranda answered for her, earning a slight frown from Shepard. "This one."

"I'm not wearing anything with frills," Shepard said immediately.

"These aren't frills, they're... pleats."

"Then I'm not wearing anything with pleats. I'm also hoping that my sex life doesn't take a turn for the disquieting. We haven't really gone that far."

Kasumi let the dress she was holding fall back onto the hanger. "You haven't? How long have you two been dancing around each other?"

"Hah!" Miranda barked. "Shepard dancing."

Shepard let out a cry of indignation. "What is with this? Is it the shotgun? I'm not Rambo or something, there's more to me than a big gun."

"You dance?"

"I'll have you know that I took ballet all my life before Mindoir was raided. I dance, and I dance _well_. I can plié and pirouette with the best of them."

"And pull off a pretty good French accent, apparently," Kasumi snickered.

"I'm _speaking_ French, Einstein. Mindoir is a French colony." She was starting to get more than a little insulted that everyone saw her as dumb muscle. Just because she hadn't had much of a chance to dance or read poetry or paint since she was a teenager didn't mean she was a complete philistine. She had depths and dimensions and all that. "Wait, how did you not know that I danced? I thought you'd studied every second of my life."

"Every second of your military life," Miranda corrected, but she was looking distracted.

Shepard suddenly became aware that the two women had stopped looking at dresses in favour of scrutinising her, chins in their hands, heads tilted. She frowned deeply, looking down at herself for the source of their interest.

"It makes sense," Kasumi mused. "The long legs – dancer's legs. And a nice ass."

"And the flat chest. Too tall to be professional, though," Miranda said. "She'd stand a head taller than anyone else on stage."

"I'm still here, you know," Shepard said. "I can hear you. And I'm not flat chested."

"She does have kind of an Amazon thing going on," Kasumi continued as if she hadn't spoken. "That intimidates men. Probably not Thane though. If he was intimidated by her stature, he wouldn't survive when she brought out the guns."

"Great. Well, I'm just going to pretend that I'm attending a peace conference in three days' time. You two just go ahead with whatever it is that you're doing." Shepard rolled her eyes and pointedly continued looking through dresses. She didn't particularly appreciate the commentary on her physique, she was insecure enough as it was without those two acting like they were setting up her online dating profile. Yes, she was tall; yes, she was well built; yes, men found that intimidating. She didn't need a damn essay on the subject.

"Some men find height attractive," Miranda said. "Most of them, I think."

"It's not so much the height as the build. The broad shoulders and the hips."

"Stop that," she growled. "If you're both that curious: drell don't like dancer's legs, strong legs break drell hips. They don't care for a nice ass, to them that's just a weird, mammalian fat deposit. I'm not that tall, I'm just tall for a woman. I'm only Thane's height when I wear flats. And all of these things are pretty moot since he's probably going to get freaked out and think I'm some kind of feral animal if we ever get around to having sex."

Miranda and Kasumi gave her identical sceptical looks.

"Easy, Shep," the thief said. "I just had some inspiration."

She held out a dress in the traditional ballet fashion, simple in style and falling loose at the hips. High cut enough to pass as modest, likely to flatter her figure. Blue, which everyone seemed to agree was her colour. Shepard looked suspiciously between the dress and its holder, who seemed to view it as a peace offering. It wasn't awful.

She took the dress and examined it more closely, still pouting. "I'll try it on."

Slipping into the changing room, she quickly pulled her suit off and put on the dress, ignoring the whispers coming from outside the stall. This would probably do the trick at the peace conference, although the fit and fall wouldn't leave much room for concealed weapons. It was modest enough, the skirt hanging below her knee, but the fall of the fabric would be a dead giveaway if she tried to strap anything to her outer thighs.

Shepard held her omni-tool up to the mirror and took a picture, then sent it to Garrus.

_Turian opinion: would you trust a woman wearing this dress?_

His reply was quick.

_I have no idea what human fashions entail. I wouldn't try to shoot you on sight._

The awe-inspiring confidence of one Garrus Vakarian. Brilliant. Not being shot on sight was pretty much what she was aiming for, so that was as good as anything. Fears assuaged, she opened the stall door and stepped out to be surveyed by the two women who were never coming on a shopping trip with her ever again.

Miranda and Kasumi gave appreciative nods as she presented herself.

"The drell must be crazy," Kasumi said.

"So we have a winner? I need to get back to the ship, the last of the herring relays is being moved into place and I have to help Admiral Xen run interference with the Council."

"We've got it. You go on ahead, unless you need us for anything?"

Shepard scowled. Kasumi was looking way too innocent to not be plotting something. Also she didn't think it was fair that her shopping trip had to be cut short while the others were able to stay on.

"You're actually going to pay for the dress? Not stick it between your thighs?"

Kasumi laughed. "If I was going to steal it I'd do something a little more sophisticated than the shoplifter's shuffle."

"That was less than reassuring. This dress, no others. Pick up some shoes, too. Miranda knows my size."

She ducked back into the changing room and returned to her supportive catsuit, feeling ironically much less exposed. She tossed the dress to Miranda and gave her shopping buddies one last warning glare before exiting the store.

This was a bad idea, everything in her told her that this was a bad idea, but Admiral Xen needed her and she was sure that the Council would cause them more trouble if left unattended than Miranda and Kasumi. Well, fairly sure. Almost sure. The important thing was that they didn't have a fleet at their direct disposal.

Yet.

Shepard tossed a look over her shoulder as she walked down the street, giving the store one more disapproving glance before heading for the _Normandy_

_

* * *

_

_Now take it to the floor, pumps saying hello  
New wing tips got 'em flyer than sparrow  
Get 'em by the twos like I'm Noah with stilettos  
Fresh Jimmie Choo's got 'em pointing like an arrow._

"_Get 'em Girls" - Jessica Mauboy_


	13. Chapter 13

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 13**

**Obtain Safe Passage to Conquer the State of Guo**

–

There was no corner of Illium that wasn't smooth and glamorous, but somewhere, in the winding paths that connected skyscrapers and pavilions, Kaidan had walked into a different world. The silvery sheen gave way to matte white, expensive shoes became sneakers, it was like the office building of human sectors, only hidden behind a glittering facade. Tali had given him very specific directions, or he might have been scared by the fact that he was unarmed among dozens of Eclipse mercenaries.

And they were Eclipse, in full armour, even as they ate and laughed and bandied about conversation. After Cerberus, somehow Eclipse didn't seem so bad. He still wasn't impressed to find himself yet again hearing that Shepard had made heinous and bloodthirsty allies.

"Kaidan!" Tali jumped up on seeing him, racing forward to pull him into a hug.

"Hey, Tali," he said, returning to gesture with a little less enthusiasm. It wasn't easy to be enthusiastic when she had just been shooting the breeze with an Eclipse lieutenant and a few other quarians.

"I'm so glad you came, and not just because comm duty is boring. Although it is. Everyone else is out preparing for war and I'm here monitoring operations."

She led him out of the room they were in and through to some sort of mess hall, where she took up a seat on one of the benches and he sat across from her. It was relatively empty, but he couldn't stop looking over his shoulder for the mercs. They were like flies, if there was one around, it was going to have friends.

"What did you do to get stuck out here?" he asked.

"I held back on Shepard, delayed the quarian truce with the geth. Stupid."

"Why are you using the Eclipse base for your operations? Please don't tell me that Shepard is working with them, now."

Tali shrugged. "Of course she is. She's working with everyone who matters."

Kaidan looked at her. "Really?"

"I didn't mean anyone who matters. I mean anyone who knows about the reapers. Who cares. Keelah, this is coming out wrong. Shepard isn't turning away any allies. You must understand that these people are working for Shepard, not the other way around, she wouldn't conform to their agenda."

"I'm not sure I understand anything, anymore, Tali. I don't even know who she is anymore. I wonder if I ever did. The woman I knew wouldn't lie, cheat and steal, wouldn't fake her death, not even to take down Cerberus."

Tali stared at him for a long moment. "You did... you did talk to her when we came back through the Omega relay."

"No." He clasped his hands together and sighed. "I didn't know what to say to her. Then she was just gone."

"Keelah, no wonder she was so upset. Kaidan... Shepard didn't fake her death. She died. Her body fell into the hands of the Shadow Broker and then went to Cerberus, it took them two years to bring her back."

"You expect me to believe that? Not even Cerberus can work miracles."

"You think I'd lie for her? Operative Lawson showed me the footage. Some of the footage. It was very graphic." The quarian shuddered and Kaidan frowned. That kind of procedure was unheard of, thought to be impossible. But Tali didn't have a deceptive bone in her body, she wouldn't lie.

"How...?"

Tali shifted uncomfortably. "They replaced a lot of her damaged tissue with synthetic parts, some cloned. The eyes are unnerving, you can almost see the gears working. I don't know what else they used, but Miranda was very proud of how many original parts they managed to save. I don't know how much work was done on her brain. They wanted to put a control chip in, but didn't."

Kaidan pressed the heel of his hand to his eye, trying to process this information. It cast everything in a different light. She had really died. She hadn't abandoned them, she'd been effectively kidnapped. "Is she still her?"

"Yes. I think so. Her death effected her profoundly, although she won't admit it. I think she's very angry at the galaxy right now, but she's still her. Still our Shepard."

"Then what happened? When she...she...?"

"She prefers to use the term 'woke up'." Tali sighed heavily and shook her head. "You have a lot to catch up on, Kaidan. Let me start at the beginning."

–

"I'm going to have to ask you to relinquish your weapons, ma'am."

"All of them?"

Day four of the peace conference, and Shepard had arrived just in time for everyone to be well and truly bored with all these talks, particularly retired captains with a grudge against the whole subject matter. The Mindoir emissary had kindly offered her his own passes to the event, or at least, she was representing Mindoir in the talks, but she had the distinct impression that he was more than a little grateful to be rid of the opportunity.

"Yes, ma'am, all of them."

She probably could have predicted that she wouldn't be allowed weapons. She hadn't brought her rocket launcher at all.

With a grumble Shepard nodded to Garrus and Mordin, who surrendered their side arms, and she removed the pistol from the semi-concealed holster under her arm, handing it over. The security guard, a turian, simply stared at her. She grudgingly handed over the mini pistol concealed in her cleavage and made to walk inside. A talon to the chest stopped her.

No fooling this guy.

"Fine," she huffed.

Bending over, she detached the pistol from her inner knee and the one from under her arm and placed them on the table. Getting to the flashbangs in her panties was less than dignified, but frankly she felt it was a small price to pay for no longer having flashbangs in her panties. The two knives, one hidden in either shoe, joined the pile, and the SMG hidden in her shawl. Three sensor bombs were disguised as a necklace which she removed when the security guard gave it a hard look.

Shepard looked at the pile of weaponry on the table, then at the guard. If she hadn't been hanging around Garrus so long she might have misunderstood the wry, unimpressed look the guard was giving her.

"Expecting trouble, Shepard?" Garrus asked.

"I left the rocket launcher on the ship!" she protested.

With one last, petulant scowl at the guard she bent her knees slightly to unhook the shotgun on her inner thigh.

A flanging laugh from a few rows over caught her attention and she looked up to see an aging turian looking at her, eyes dancing with laughter. Arrius. She recognised his face from the dossier. Not the best first impression to make, but decidedly better than a few introductions she'd had with her team. At least he seemed to think it was funny.

Now wasn't the time to approach him, as the security guard gave her one last scan and waved her through. It was probably best to at least pretend she wasn't here to recruit him. A person could get their reputation badly damaged by her attentions. Their reputation and their personal health, to be fair.

So instead she led her team through into the hall where dozens of tables were set out, the place milling with humans and turians in their finery, all pretending to like each other and hoping the speeches wouldn't start again too soon.

Palaven was truly beautiful, and so was every room of the council chambers. The roofs were all covered, lead coating on the outside, to prevent visitors from being damaged by the radiation of the sun, but they had made an artificial light, almost like sunlight, that made everything feel open and bright. Although they were under a foot of lead it felt like the conference was being held in open air gardens or a marquee, and that was some very intelligent interior design. Almost making them forget they were in a bunker.

Shepard and her team were led to one of the tables, along with the representatives of many colonies. She was greeted warmly, and recognised a few faces, many of them had offered aid after Mindoir was raided. One of the men had been directly responsible for the scholarship that had supported her before she joined the Alliance.

"Johnson," she said, clasping his hand in her own.

"Shepard, it's good to see you again. You're looking well." He was an older man, with a kindly face and a stiff upper lip, his calm and friendly demeanour had given her no end of comfort after her family had died.

She smiled broadly. "So are you. How is New Seoul?"

"Ah, I was transferred to Eden Prime not long ago. New Seoul was lucky to escape the notice of the collectors. From what I hear I have you to thank for that."

She hissed under her breath. Eden Prime was one of the locations marked for a likely reaper attack in the first days or weeks after their arrival. She could hardly ask Aria to take the whole colony but maybe Johnson and his family could be spared. She'd send him an info package on Exodus.

Shepard shook her head, remembering her manners.

"I didn't do it alone. This is Garrus Vakarian, and old friend of mine and my executive officer." She urged Garrus forward and Johnson shook hands with him. "And Dr. Mordin Solus, my chief science officer. They were with me when we went through the Omega 4 relay."

"Would you indulge my curiosity and tell me what's on the other side?" Johnson asked.

"A whole lot of black holes and things trying to kill you."

"That must have been quite a sight."

Hah, she always liked the way he thought. "It was. How's the family?"

"My oldest was just accepted into Citadel university for the xenoscience program. Her younger brother is hoping to follow her in a few years time."

"Congratulations. That's very prestigious."

"Thank you. And you? Any news that you're allowed to share?"

Shepard laughed. It seemed like years since anyone asked what was going on with her. "Well, I adopted a krogan boy, his name is Grunt. Uh... I died, but I suppose you knew that."

"Everyone said that you faked your death, and the evidence seems fairly compelling."

"Long story. Let's just say that if the Alliance ever manages to bring down Cerberus they're going to find some very interesting things."

"Cerberus, eh?"

Shepard saw from the corner of her eye as Arrius rose from his seat and headed for the bar. She couldn't miss her chance when he was separated from the rest of his party.

"I'm sorry, Johnson, would you excuse me?"

"Of course, Shepard, nice talking to you."

She rose from the table, holding up a hand to Garrus and Mordin, telling them to stay where they were. She sauntered up to the bar, trying to appear casual and not like a stalker.

Arrius was tall, even by turian standards, and more heavily built than Garrus, with intricate facial markings denoting an old, respected clan. She could easily imagine him at the helm of a dreadnought, see him commanding respect and obedience. Hopefully he'd be looking that imposing at the helm of the _Shepard_ soon enough, if he was agreeable. Despite being a turian, he reminded her enormously of her grandfather.

Shepard ordered a drink, edging closer to Arrius without looking at him, hoping he wouldn't turn and walk away. With drink in hand she nonchalantly strolled up to him and took a seat, pretending she didn't recognise him. Arrius gave her a look, as if he was totally unimpressed with her efforts at stealth, and she couldn't blame him, she was terrible at being subtle.

Hopefully it was enough to convince any onlookers that she wasn't here specifically to talk to him, or both their reputations would be at risk. And reputation meant a hell of a lot to a turian.

"Captain Arrius, isn't it?" she asked.

"It is," he agreed. "And you appear to be the rogue spectre Shepard."

Shepard shrugged. "I've been told I look a lot like her."

"The resemblance is striking," he said in false wonder.

"Well, I'm sure you wouldn't want anyone to think you were consorting with dissidents."

"Indeed. But I can hardly begrudge you my company on account of a passing similarity."

Oh, this guy would do just fine on her ship. "Well, it would certainly raise questions about why Shepard would approach a renowned captain. It would almost be as if she wanted one for a ship."

"Why she would think that I would be agreeable to such a thing would be the cause of much speculation. Turian captains do not betray their homeworld."

Shepard shrugged, slouching against the bar and taking a long sip of her drink. "You really wouldn't want anyone questioning your loyalty, especially in times like these, with the rumours of reapers circulating, so many people feeling that joining their cause is not a betrayal, since saving a planet can hardly be called treachery against that same planet."

"And you, young miss?" Arrius asked, with a glimmer of laughter in his eye. "Do you think that these dissidents are right?"

"It would hardly be appropriate for me to say, as ambassador for Mindoir. However from what I've personally heard, Shepard's actions are those of a woman completely committed, willing to face death."

"That does give one pause for thought, to see someone so devoted to her cause."

This was clearly the most fun the old turian had enjoyed in four days, since he was playing along admirably well with her plausible deniability high jinx. Shepard batted her eyes innocently.

"And did you hear that only a few months ago the old wreckage of a turian dreadnought was salvaged? With her resources she might even have it up and running by now, and from what has been made public about her crew, she wouldn't have a single person capable of commanding such a vessel. That could be very dangerous, she's clearly a menace."

"Clearly. Who knows what kind of hooligan she has at the helm?"

"Probably some mercenary, not loyal to her or the cause. Can you imagine? If she's right about the reapers her entire fleet might meet them with a turncoat on the flagship."

"Then the whole invasion would have to be turned back by the Council," Arrius mused.

"Who I'm sure have given this matter due consideration," Shepard said solemnly. "Although I heard just the other day that the reapers may be upon us in as little as a few weeks."

"Speculation, surely."

"I'm sure. It's not like Shepard has people monitoring deep space. It must just be hysteria."

Arrius' jovial demeanour had faded into the gravity of the situation. "A lot to take on faith. It's a wonder she's recruited anyone at all. It's been said in the council chambers that she has the Shadow Broker on her side."

"Maybe I've been misinformed, but I heard that the Shadow Broker was a close personal friend of Shepard, and the main sponsor for the war. I guess it must just be a rumour, you wouldn't believe what some people are saying. That she has the krogans, the hanar, the quarians... even the geth and rachni. What ridiculous rumours. No one could recruit so many forces based on faith or fear."

"And why would they leave their families, if the threat was so great? I wonder if she'd even have measures in place to protect those dearest to her crew."

"Right, I'd want my family in nothing less than a fortress if the threat was really so big. Protected by an army of krogans, and totally cut off from primary targets. Nothing less would see me sleep easy at night."

The bartender was giving them the strangest look, as if he knew something was going on, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it from the snippets of conversation he'd caught. Arrius gestured for another drink and didn't say anything for a while, seeming to contemplate the information revealed to him.

She'd given him everything that she could, now it was up to him if he wanted to take the risk. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't let a Council loyalist anywhere near the _Shepard_. If he wanted the full story, he'd have to come and get it.

"How do I find you?" Arrius asked, dropping the pretence.

"There'll be a quarian ship outside Noveria in three days time. They'll bring you to the flagship and ensure you come alone, your family will be taken care of from Palaven. Enjoy the conference, Captain."

He nodded to her and turned back to his drink.

Shepard returned to her table to report her success.

_I'm cool, brave and daring  
To see a lion glaring  
When I'm out with my Remington  
But a look from a mister  
Will raise a fever blister  
Oh you can't get a man with a gun. _

"_You Can't Get A Man With A Gun" - Dorothy Shay_


	14. Chapter 14

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 14**

**The Honey Trap**

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Shepard nudged Garrus, sending him a wry grin. He looked ready to jump out of his armour. He returned the smile briefly, but didn't speak. She'd never seen him in such a state. Or half her crew, most of whom were gathered in the _Shepard_'s CIC in shining new armour and freshly polished boots, few of them looking composed. Jack had refused to show up at all.

"_Admiral Shepard, the _PVN Defrahnz_ has docked. Your guests are boarding now_," the ship's concierge system announced.

"It's just your family, Garrus," she said.

He gave a wry chuckle. "You haven't met my family, Shepard."

Grunt, Legion, Tali and Thane were the only ones without family boarding the dreadnought. It had taken some time and a lot of Liara's resources to track down everyone, and it hadn't been easy getting Samara's daughters out of the monastery.

The doors to the shuttle bay opened and Shepard steeled herself. A lot of these people hadn't seen each other in years, some in centuries. Some wouldn't even recognise each other.

Two asari led the way, both prim and beautiful, confidence, power in every step. Samara's daughters without a doubt. Ardat-Yakshi, but not killers. The justicar stepped forward to meet them and they moved aside, giving way to the rest of the people. Shepard was entranced by the stately turian woman who moved almost directly toward her, the first turian female she'd ever seen. An older woman clung to her arm.

Garrus stepped forward, looking like he was expecting a slap in the face. His sister ran a talon lightly down the side of his face, where the gunship had nearly taken his head clean off.

"This is why you wouldn't let me see you?" she asked.

Garrus nodded, his head bowed. "Yeah, Sol, this is why."

Solana Vakarian's jaw trembled, her claws running ever so gently over his face. "It's not so bad. You were always ugly, Garrus."

He laughed, a shaking, relieved laugh, and glanced at Shepard wondering if she also realised that her own words had been echoed. She returned with a smile – she remembered.

"Sol, Mom, this is Admiral Shepard."

Shepard stepped forward and bowed slightly, a gesture she'd picked up off Thane, and she realised that she was also standing with her hands folded behind her back. Damn, she was spending too much time with him. The elderly woman, Garrus' mother, eyed her suspiciously.

"So you're the one getting my boy into trouble." Her words were accusatory, but her tone understanding. He was worried about nothing.

"Guilty as charged, ma'am. Welcome aboard the _Shepard_."

"Garrus has told us... nothing about you," Solana admitted. "But we've heard."

"Your brother has been an asset to the cause, and I couldn't ask for a better XO. I'm proud to have him on my crew."

"Playing at Spectre" – that's what he told her, that's what his sister thought he was doing. It had made her heart ache for her best friend. To not be able to say what was going on must have been hell for him, and now she wanted to make it up to him, to tell his family how amazing he was, what he had done for the whole galaxy.

Garrus gave her a grateful look, and she smiled back, wanting to hug him. No one deserved to go through half of what he had, and she wanted his family to be there for him, as well as herself.

"I hope it was worth leaving C-Sec," the elder Ms. Vakarian said.

Garrus opened his mouth to speak but Shepard jumped in. "Garrus has saved countless lives, and given this galaxy hope of defeating the Reapers. It was worth leaving C-Sec."

The elderly turian regarded her. "You have a lot to say about this."

"I could talk all day," Shepard confirmed. She saw a human couple over the turian's shoulder, looking lost. "Unfortunately, I have to greet the rest of our guests. Please let me know if you need anything."

She bowed again and approached the human couple. No one was here to greet them, and she knew no one would be. Jack had flatly refused to meet her parents, even if she had asked to have them found and moved to safety. Shepard had to give it to Liara, convincing them to come couldn't have been easy.

"Mr. and Mrs. Leung?" she asked.

"Yes," the woman replied, stepping forward. "I..."

"I'm Admiral Shepard. I know this must be confusing, but you'll be on Omega soon, and have a chance to get your bearings. Your safety is guaranteed from here on out."

"We're not really sure why we're here. Everyone seems to be family of your crew, we're not..." She looked like a frightened mouse, ready to leap for the exit at any moment.

"Your sponsor has asked not to be named," Shepard explained. "I can assure you that you have a place here, and will for the duration of the coming war. Your sponsor wanted you to know that she's very grateful you decided to come, that she knows that people in Council protected space aren't taking this threat seriously, and that she's glad you'll be safe."

That last part was a lie. Jack's exact words were more along the lines of 'Just don't let them fucking, die, okay? Get out of my face.' Shepard didn't think the Leungs would necessarily appreciate that the way it was intended.

"Alright," Mr. Leung agreed. "We don't need to know."

Shepard waved over one of her crewmen who had been standing to the side. "Mr. Alagaz here will escort you onboard this boat. You have quarters prepared, and he can take you to the mess if you're hungry. Don't hesitate to ask him if you need anything."

"Thank you," said Mrs. Leung.

Shepard smiled warmly at them as they were led away.

All around her families were reuniting, hugs and tears, happy to be together again. There was no one there to see Shepard, and not because her loved ones were safely in a non-Council area. She looked at the door and tried not to let her disappointment show. She had no one coming for her because they were all already here, she told herself.

The others could take care of their guests. She needed some space.

Shepard made her way up to her quarters. She could count on her fingers the times she'd used the cabin since Liara first showed it to her; it didn't quite feel like home yet. She had a feeling that once the Reapers reached them she'd be spending more time here than on the _Normandy_ and it would grow more comfortable, but for the moment it felt like invading someone else's space.

There was a package waiting for her on the desk and she peeled back the paper, careful not to dislodge the pile of data packets waiting beside the parcel for her perusal. Shepard let out a bark of laughter at the sight inside. The black shoes she'd been eyeing off on Illium. She knew she couldn't trust Miranda and Kasumi.

Good timing, though – she'd needed a little cheering up. She sat down on the bed and pulled off her combat boots, slipping on her delectable new heels to check for size. They sat snug on her feet and she buckled them around her ankles, then stretched out one leg to admire the fit, the line. She wouldn't make it ten feet in them, but they were most definitely worth it.

Shepard lay back on her bed, her legs up in the air, and looked at her new shoes, all thoughts of missing family melting away in five inch heels.

"_Shepard, finally caught you alone._"

Shepard yelped and jumped off the bed as the voice boomed in her ear. Liara's filtered and disguised voice, always used for external communications, was utterly unnerving.

"Stop spying on me, would you?" Shepard demanded.

"_I'm sorry, Shepard. I saw the footage of you and Thane on Omega._"

Shepard frowned. Liara usually delighted in surprising her like this, but this time she sounded deadly serious, even through the voice filters. "I thought you'd be thrilled. Is everything alright?"

"_No, not really. I've been waiting for the right time, and now seems as good as any. I'm sending a file to your private terminal that I think you should see. I know you don't like to read dossiers on your crew, but..._"

"If you say it's important, I'll read it."

"_Thank you, Shepard._"

"Shepard out."

She made her way to her private terminal. At least it was nothing to do with the mission, or Liara wouldn't send it electronically. It took only a moment for a new message to appear, and it was labelled as part of Thane's dossier. Shepard scoffed. Liara was so intent to play matchmaker, but she was just about done playing along. The files she uncovered as the Shadow Broker were intensely private; Shepard had no intention of violating her people's privacy.

Still... Liara hadn't sounded like she was playing games. She'd sounded deadly serious. Shepard debated reading the file. She wanted Thane to have his secrets and trusted him to tell her what she needed to know; plus their budding relationship was still new and fragile. But Liara knew all that.

She decided to open the file. If what was inside was anything but vital, she would just pretend she'd never seen it.

Medical records. This was a mistake. His impending death was not something she liked thinking about; it made her chest ache. All she could really hope for was that she could make these last few months as pleasant for him as possible, which was hard enough in wartime. The information on the metastatic progress made her stomach clench unpleasantly.

She scrolled down, taking in what she could. Then she saw why Liara had sent it.

Shepard hit the intercom. "Thane, could I see you in my quarters right away, please?"

"_Of course, Shepard_," he replied. The line went dead.

She stared at her screen, tears burning in her eyes. How could he keep this from her? Her chest ached, burned, with every shortened breath, like her heart was so slowly caving in on itself. She wanted to cry, but stifled the sobs. She needed to talk to him with a cool head.

She didn't look up when the door opened. She could hear his breathing, heavier than it used to be. His coughing fits were worsening, more frequent. It wouldn't be long now. She'd pushed that aside, didn't want to face it. She wanted to believe he'd be with her forever.

"You wanted to see me, siha?" he asked.

She looked up, meeting his eyes. How could he be so calm? How could he even look her in the eye? She wet her lips, preparing herself to talk.

"Why didn't you tell me that you're eligible for a transplant?" She steeled herself as the realisation hit him that she'd been in his files. Hurt and anger flashed across his face, but she didn't let him speak. "Don't, just don't. I know I shouldn't have and I know you deserve better, but please just answer me."

"I didn't wish to give you hope where there is none," he said simply.

She stood and leaned against her desk, eyes level with his. This wasn't a conversation where she could or should play power games. "Why would there be no hope? Dr. Chakwas thinks you're a viable candidate. Considering your position, and your condition, it wouldn't be impossible, even at this stage."

"I cannot."

"Why not?" She took a step toward him and he refused to meet her eyes. "Why not, Thane? I died gasping – it wasn't fun. Why wouldn't you try something if it meant you might live?"

"I am not under the illusion that it will be 'fun', Shepard, and you should be the first to know that surviving at any cost is not always the way." His anger was steadily mounting. It wasn't like hers, no violent flash of white hot rage, just a slow burn, an edge to his voice that could cut her to ribbons.

"Then what is the way? Why wouldn't you do this?"

"Organ transplants are a zero-sum arrangement, Shepard. For me to live, another must die. A lung that goes to me does not go to someone who deserves it more. I cannot."

She cried out in indignation. "Deserves it more? Who could deserve it more than you?"

"You are blinded by... what we have together. I am a killer. That is all I am. There are many more righteous who would do more good with their lives. Mothers, fathers, people who will suffer while my privilege affords me relief."

"You are more than just a killer," she growled. "You're a hero. You risked your life while others cowered."

"I had less to lose than they."

She wanted to punch him. She wanted to flatten him and knock some sense into him. How dare he? How dare he try to leave her because he couldn't see what he had become? This was unbearable, to see him so earnestly say that there were better people out there.

"You're more righteous than... than... Even as a full time assassin, you had better morals than half the shopkeeps I've met! You deserve this as much as anyone, if not more than most."

Thane met her gaze and held it, his eyes burning, scalding her like fire. "If you cannot love me because I am dying, I understand. But please, do not try to change me."

It felt like he had hit her. She pressed a hand to her chest, fingers curling at her throat as if she could compel herself to breathe while simultaneously holding her chest together. Tears that screamed to be released wouldn't come. Instead she looked at the man she loved, forcing her throat to work with her and infusing each word with all the pain she was feeling.

"You think I can't love you? You think we haven't reached the point where your death will kill me?"

The anger drained from his body, leaving only pain behind, and he reached to her. She might have resisted if she had the strength, but all she could do was fall into his arms and let him hold her. He kept her standing, the ferocity of his grasp calming her raging heart.

"You'll forget me, siha," he whispered into her hair. "Time will dull the pain."

She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in the leather of his jacket. "That's not how it works. You think that because I'm human, because I'll forget, you'll be gone, but you won't. I won't be able to remember what you smell like or the exact shade of your skin, but that's not how humans remember."

He stroked her hair with one hand and planted a kiss behind her ear. "How do you remember?"

"We change," she choked out. "The people we love, the things that mean the most to us, they change us. I'm already too far into this to ever forget you. You'll be with me every day until I die and after that."

His lips captured hers and she drank him in greedily, every fibre of her body humming with the awareness that she was going to lose him. Soon. She gasped against his mouth, trying to reconcile the sweetness of his touch with the pain in her chest, the feeling of his skin against hers, and, in her mind, the already acute absence of it.

"I have to leave you, siha," he said. "Forgive me."

"I'm not ready."

"Nor am I."

He pushed her hair back from her face, one hand splayed along the line of her jaw, bringing her back to him. She tugged the collar of his jacket, bringing it down over his shoulders, the moment of lost contact for it to fall renewing the ferocity when they touched again. The need to be close to him was almost as strong as the need to breathe.

Skin against skin, their hands searched, his arms, her back, faces and collarbones showered with firm touches and open kisses. Her fingertips ghosted over the ridges of his face, feeling spines and valleys that were soft to the touch she'd never dared make. Mouths enraptured with each other, she arched into him, her tongue seeking his out, unsure whether he was soothing the fire or making it burn brighter.

She rested her forehead against his, feeling like she was in the eye of the storm. Their bodies molded to each other, breath mingling. She ached for him.

Maybe it was macabre, maybe thoughts of his death and departure from her side should call for reflection and discussion, but all she wanted was to know as much of him as she could. Her body sang with the need to make love with him until it gave out.

Thane seemed to understand, urging her back, her knees hitting the bed. He lowered her gently, one arm around her back, until she was lying on the bed. She opened her eyes to find that the hallucinations had already begun; he was glowing, radiant, every sliver of light hitting his skin and scattering. His body pressed into hers.

This was really happening. Shepard cried out in infuriated pleasure, revelling in the pressure of his body, needing more. Her suit felt rough, every inch she shifted sending the fabric coursing over her skin, stimulating her all over again.

In her ecstasy she wrapped her legs around his hips, the pressure of the position sent sparks raging through her body and she bit down on his shoulder to muffle her cries. Thane let out a gasp of surprise.

The noise was like a shock of cold water. She jerked back, removing her teeth and legs, eyes flying open. Mordin's pamphlets flashed before her eyes, the drell porn, everything she'd read, and suddenly all her insecurities returned. She slid up the bed, putting some distance between herself and Thane. Oh, God, she had totally lost control; if they had gone any further she would have hit him with the full human freakshow all at once.

"Siha?" he asked, looking at her through curious eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... Humans aren't like drell and I don't want to..." Why did she always turn into a tongue-tied idiot around him? "I'm different to what you're used to."

A twitch of amusement on his face. "I'm aware."

"I know, but you haven't been with a human before and... seeing pictures is not the same as getting up close and personal." She sounded like an idiot. Worse, an insecure teenager with her first boyfriend.

"Siha." He reached up to caress her face, humour and bemusement warring within. "Our differences are not so great. There is no part of you that could quell my affections."

"It's not just that." She looked away from him, trying to ignore the fact that her world had started spinning. "I'm not as... composed... as a drell woman would be. I don't want you to think badly of me." She could have cursed herself for the weakness, the vulnerability in her voice.

Thane's eyes narrowed in bewilderment and she blushed. He already thought she was an idiot, clearly. She scooted backward, utterly humiliated, and turned to climb off the bed.

Arms encircled her, pulling her back to him. She mewled as her back hit his chest, her body crushed into his. One arm wound tightly around her ribcage, he raised his free hand to stroke her hair, and she could feel his hands trembling. His breath came up short, the shuddering gasps pulling warm air through her hair and raising her body temperature. His frustration and fear were palpable, vibrating through her body as he held her.

"Thane..."

His hands closed over hers and guided them to the back of his neck, forcing her kneeling, straddling his knees and stretching her body out, totally exposed to his touch. She whimpered at the vulnerability of the position, but didn't move. Arousal flooded her body, his ardour and her submission leaving her weak at the knees. As much as she wanted to turn and comfort him, wanted to take back control of the situation, she felt almost paralysed.

His hands coursed down her ribs, flat palms, leaving a firestorm in their wake. She cried out, quivering against him. He paused, letting the tremors subside, then drew his fingers in a line up her belly, between her breasts, to unclasp the throat of her uniform.

Shepard pulled a hand away to grasp at the fabric that was leaving her prickling all over, but he caught her wrist and returned it to his neck.

"Keep them there," he growled in her ear.

He had her squirming, not allowing her relief or comfort, leaving her waiting with a sweet dread for the next round of his perfect torture. A hand ran from her ankle up her leg, pausing to caress her hip. She just had to focus on breathing. He continued up her belly and ghosted across the side of her breast. She gasp.

"Siha," he whispered in her ear. "Have I ever given you reason to doubt that I find you beautiful?"

She couldn't answer. His hands cupped her breasts, feeling their weight, pulling the fabric of her uniform tight over them, and she keened at the back of her throat, arching into his touch. He lingered only a moment before pulling back on her shoulders, keeping her pressed against him. His mouth was on her neck, sucking, biting.

"Do you think there is anything that could deter me from you?"

He tugged at the zip on the front of her suit, dragging it down first an inch, then another, the fabric rubbing her hypersensitive nipples as the suit gave way to his hands. Rough, scaly skin against her breasts made her involuntarily grind into his hips – he was _hard_. Despite her state of total disarray, it registered that he was enjoying this as much as she. The groan she drew from his throat was the purest aphrodisiac.

Oh, God, she couldn't survive this. She was high as hell and every sensation multiplied tenfold. She was going to explode, or collapse, but she couldn't keep going. Everything inside her was turned upside down, she couldn't breathe.

"Please..." she begged, not knowing what she was asking for. "Please..."

He squeezed her breasts gently and she cried out, her nerves alight. He was going to kill her with the pleasure.

"Do you think there is anything I would not do to please you?"

Deft fingers worked the buckles on her suit, freeing the zip to slide down past her belly, a tuft of soft hair exposed. It took all of her strength not to curl in on herself, shielding herself from his gaze and his touch. He let her still for a moment, one hand resting on her knee, before slowly grazing her inner thigh. Through the tantalisingly thin fabric he touched her, stroking, pressing, and she couldn't help but writhe on his fingers, desperate for more.

Some combination of her desperation, his affection and the drugs coursing through her system had her overstimulated. She felt like the slightest provocation would see her topple.

Once again he stilled and she cried out in frustration. Enough foreplay, she wanted him _now_. Unfortunately she was in no position to be making demands, as he demonstrated with one lazy stroke of her belly, pausing to circle her bellybutton. Her head lolled back against his shoulder, the skylight encompassing her field of vision. He continued down, this time slipping under her suit.

The stars were so bright, glowing and changing colour under the influence of Thane's drug. Tears slipped from her eyes as he touched her, his name on her lips, prayers to a god she didn't believe in, keening and sobbing.

His touch was tentative, exploring and probing. She felt the quickening in her gut. She was getting close, his careful ministrations bringing her to the edge.

"You are... the most incredible woman." His teeth scraped the shell of her ear. "Any man in this galaxy would kill to be where I am."

His free hand closed around her breast, thumb rubbing over her nipple, ripping frantic cries from her throat. Stars exploded in the sky, whole constellations going supernova before her eyes. Her back arched, she was hanging by a slender thread.

"Every day you are beautiful, and at the heights of your passion... indescribable."

Tight circles over her clit had her howling with pleasure. She needed release, but everything he did just seemed to take her higher, her body stricken, her skin aflame. Every muscle in her body was tense, every stroke building her crescendo. She cried in frustration, suspended but unable to fall.

He kissed her jaw tenderly, his breath hot against her face, and whispered in her ear. "I love you."

The words circled around and around in her brain, a vortex that could tear her apart, then shot straight downwards like a bolt of lightning.

The world shattered around her, eyes and mouth open in a silent scream. Her descent was slow, every scrap of tension tearing up her system before fleeing, paralysing her. He held her tightly, face buried in her hair, bracing her against the swells as they broke. A low groan escaped her, the sound whirling around them, weaving through the air, echoing outwards with every shock that wracked her.

Thane took her hands from his neck, guiding her down onto the bed. She couldn't yet move, couldn't speak, but he lay beside her and wrapped her in his arms. His warmth and the strength of her orgasm brought with them a wave of drowsiness. She let out a great sigh, safe in his arms.

"Thane," she whispered hoarsely. "I love you."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, softly as if she might break. "Sleep, siha. I will wake you if you are needed."

She nodded against him and closed her eyes, visions of exploding stars dancing in her mind.

* * *

_Oh, you know, you know, you know, I'd never ask you to change  
If perfect's what you're searching for then just stay the same  
So, don't even bother asking if you look okay  
You know I'll say_

_When I see your face, there's not a thing that I would change  
Cause you're amazing, just the way you are  
And when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for a while  
Because you're amazing just the way you are _

"_Just The Way You Are" - Bruno Mars_


	15. Chapter 15

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 15**

**Borrow a Corpse to Resurrect the Soul**

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* * *

**

"My name is Admiral Shepard of the United Terminus War Board. The year is 2186, according to my species, and we have been active in the galactic community for thirty years." Shepard wet her lips, trying to keep her frown from deepening. "It's likely that whatever species can watch and understand this has seen remnants of asari society – they are the dominant species in the galaxy as it stands today.

"Four years ago my species, humans, first came into contact with the last of Prothean ruins. They were the species who dominated the galaxy fifty thousand years ago. No one knew why their society had hit a sudden decline and died out until that day four years ago. Finding the Prothean beacon was the only thing that has given us a fighting chance.

"We thought that the mass relays, the Citadel were Prothean. They probably thought the species before them was responsible. Maybe whoever is watching this thinks those things belonged to the asari. They... they don't." She heard her voice break. The recording device stared back at her, devoid of emotion. "We're being farmed."

She had this whole speech planned out, written down, practised. If this beacon was ever activated, it would mean she had failed, that humans would be the new Collectors, and nothing she had ever known existed anymore. If they failed, this beacon would be the thing that killed the Reapers, and she was struggling to keep her composure.

"The Reapers are machines; they live in dark space. We don't know what they do there, or why, but we do know that they need organic species to reproduce. So they built the mass relays, the Citadel. When a new species rises to power, every fifty thousand years or so, they... they spill through the relays... take out government first... enslave what they don't kill..."

Shepard choked, covering her mouth with her hand. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. "They liquefy organics, and use the... slush... as blood for a new Reaper. This has been going on for longer than we can imagine. The oldest Reaper we've seen is 37 million years old. If we fall here, then whoever finds this beacon is going to be their next target.

"We're doing what we can. Most of the galaxy has allied, we have a fleet. But they're powerful. A hundred of our ships can't equal one of them in a head-on confrontation. Stealth and secrecy are our weapons. If they fail us, then at least we've gone out fighting, which is more than any civilisation before us can say."

She closed her eyes for a moment. Eden Prime, Ilos, Horizon, Omega, it had all led to this point. In the next week they might all be dead, this message the last remnant of a dead society.

"They're coming, from what we know we have weeks, maybe days. This beacon contains everything we know about the Reapers, to give you a chance. It also contains information on us, humans, asari, turians, krogans, a dozen other species. Our history, our culture, our art. If the worst comes to pass, please remember the people who gave you this chance.

"At the head of the armada are myself and my crew. They have all been through hell and back, given everything to give you this chance, and I ask that they are remembered for it. Garrus Vakarian, a vigilante and a hero. Miranda Lawson, who is perfect in every way. Jacob Taylor, the only sane man I know. Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, my most loyal companion and friend. Mordin Solus, the smartest, craziest man in the galaxy. Jack, who survived more than anyone should and still has something left to give. Samara, who will sacrifice everything to see justice done. Kasumi Goto, the best thief in the galaxy, but not the most famous. Legion, who surprises me every day. Zaeed Massani, who has seen everything. Urdnot Grunt, my son, the perfect krogan, the perfect warrior. And Thane Krios, an assassin, a poet, the man I love.

"Every one of them has earned a place in a history that may never get told. They deserve to see the Reapers die, and if they can't, then the best I can give them is the knowledge that their sacrifice was not in vain.

"Please, just survive this."

She shut down the recording, unable to continue. It would have to do.

Shepard covered her face with her hands. It wouldn't be needed. It would remain buried, because it wouldn't be needed.

A figure in the corner of the room made her jump, and her pistol was in her hand before she realised who was lingering in the shadows. Thane looked back at her, unperturbed by the gun pointed in his direction, and she let out her breath, holstering the weapon.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" she asked.

"I did not mean to startle you. You seemed upset at this task."

She leaned against his shoulder, letting him wrap his arms around her waist. The strain of worry and her consistently-packed agenda had left her exhausted. She must have looked awful, deep hollows under her eyes and skin an almost sickly pallor.

"It's just a precaution," she breathed, unsure whether she was trying to convince him or herself.

"How will you prevent the Reapers from finding the beacons?"

"The rachni have dug pits under a few major gold deposits on terrestrial worlds. The Reapers have no need for it, but an organic society wouldn't be able to get to the bottom fast enough."

He smiled into her hair. "That's very intelligent, siha."

"Don't sound so surprised," she grumbled. "Enough shop talk. I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks."

She leaned back enough to kiss him, slow and sweet, and her whole body sighed with relief. She had been swamped with one task after another, from the moment she woke up until the moment she fell asleep. Even her strict diet had been foregone, and she was rapidly losing weight. Dr. Chakwas would have strapped her down and force-fed her by this point were the situation not so dire.

"You haven't," he said. "These past weeks have been trying on us all."

"Do you think the Reapers would hold of their invasion for a few months if I asked politely? We have so little time as it is. How are you feeling?"

His breathing was laboured even in this inactive state, and she held the grief at bay. Now wasn't the time to fall apart. It would be, soon, and she'd have to accept that with grace.

"I am..." He paused, trying to find the right words.

"That bad?"

"I'm afraid so, siha. I will still fulfil the duties you have given me, but my days of combat have drawn to a close."

She bowed her head, biting her lip. Grace. "And you won't reconsider the transplant?"

"I will not."

She had to respect his decision. He wasn't going to budge, and she wasn't going to spend his final weeks fighting with him. So she kissed him again, trying to imprint the feel of his lips into her memory. The ocean wouldn't take all of him.

Her libido told her to just throw him on the floor and take him, their first and only encounter not nearly enough to sate her, but her good sense overrode. That wouldn't be what she really wanted to remember – these precious moments of intimacy and comfort were more important.

"I have missed you, siha," he said.

"I've missed you, too."

"You haven't been eating. Have you been sleeping?"

She scoffed. "You're giving me the talk about taking care of myself? It's hard enough to down 4,500 calories a day when I don't have a galaxy to save. I haven't had the time. And I've been sleeping when I can. I can't believe I'm saying this but I miss when we were just fighting the Collectors. The Reapers aren't even here yet, and they're already an unbelievable pain in my ass."

He chuckled softly, a habit he'd picked up that she enjoyed enormously. "You'll get the chance to let them know how you feel."

"I fully intend to write them a strongly-worded letter," she said. "You know, before the ten plagues."

"Plagues?"

"Ah, an old human story in some our most prevalent religions. God rained down ten plagues on Egypt, whose king had enslaved His people. The plagues decimated Egypt until the king yielded and freed the slaves. It's some very provocative stuff."

"Plagues like rachni and krogans?"

She grinned. "Frogs and locusts. Close enough, I suppose."

"The wrath of the gods. It seems appropriate."

Thane took her hand and led her to the window, hitting the button for the shutters. The plating slid upwards slowly, the grinding of gears echoing, the room flooding with light. The sight before them hit Shepard like a blow, leaving her breathless.

Outside Omega the space was alive, full of ships from dreadnought to tiny stealth vessel, their lights brilliant in the darkness. The distinctive shape of the geth drop ships, now loaded with krogans. The dart of quarian pilgrimage ships throughout the larger figures. Numbering in the hundreds, her armada shone like a new sun.

"Well, when you put it like that," she said, stepping forward.

The Reapers were going down.

Thane grabbed her by the hips, whirling her around and pressing her up against the glass, his mouth covering hers. In the shadow of her armada he spoiled her, one hand threaded tenderly through her hair. It was irresponsible to be kissing him like this – she was on duty and he turned her world into light and colour – but her mouth tingled, her heart pounded, and she wasn't going to deny him.

She'd missed him so much. After their encounter in her quarters, their only contact had been on missions, rushed and impersonal, whereas she wanted desperately to spend the time in hushed voices and languorous caresses.

"_Shepard?_"

Shepard groaned and rested her forehead against Thane's. "Yes, Garrus?"

"_Sorry to bother you, but I think Lai's gone crazy._"

"What's she doing?"

"_I'm not sure. I think you should come to the CIC._"

"I'll be right there." She cut the channel, sighing heavily.

Thane gave her a sympathetic smile. "It seems the gods do not favour us."

"Tell me about it. We'll continue this later."

She squeezed him tightly for a moment, then let him go reluctantly, and set off for the CIC as he followed through the maze of corridors. Lai had been relatively quiet during her stay on the _Shepard_ – a small blessing. A thousand possibilities passed through her mind of what havoc could have been wrought on the CIC. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she stood out as crazy even among this crew. If she'd decided to break her seclusion, it had better be something good.

Shepard shielded her eyes as they entered, the galaxy map blinding as Thane's toxin took hold. She could see the cause of the commotion at navigation.

Lai was at the console, fingers flying, a biotic barrier keeping her from disruption. A dozen crewmen surrounded her trying to talk her down, including Garrus and Arrius. At least the captain seemed to be taking it with good humour; he was probably already used to this sort of thing. He had only set one foot aboard the ship and Jack hurled a lower crewman across his path, setting the tone of absurdity that would follow him for the remainder of his stay.

Shepard and Thane approached the scene., She couldn't see what Lai was trying to do, just that it was whirling the holographic stars at a nausea-inducing rate.

"How long has she been at this?" Shepard asked.

"Ten minutes," Arrius replied. "She hasn't tried to take us anywhere yet, but Officer Vakarian felt your presence was required."

"Hijacking is one of the few things we haven't had to suffer through, and I'm alright with that," Garrus defended himself.

Shepard nodded, waving the two down. She cautiously approached the barrier, trying not to make any sudden movements.

"Lai?" she asked. "May I come in?"

"Of course," the psychic said, the barrier dropping in an instant. "You don't have to ask me, Admiral, you can just order me."

She didn't stop moving as she talked, stars still whirling around sickeningly. Shepard focussed on the console, trying to ignore the light. She wasn't trying to take them anywhere, which was a relief.

"What are you doing?"

"So sorry, didn't have a map big enough, too little time to requisition one. Soon, soon, yelling from the west, coming from the east. How are the herring relays?"

"They're all in place. Why did you need a galaxy map?"

The stars stopped with a jerk, the sudden lack of movement causing a wave of vertigo. Lai spread her hands over the console. "Too much information, had to refine it. Sometimes visual aids help. Helped here. The Reapers are smart, they try to wipe evidence away. Didn't count on us, no, no, no. Soon. Soon. Don't have the time."

The half-breed raised her hands to the map, tracing lines. Shepard blinked. It must have been Thane's drug, but she could swear that Lai's fingers were leaving glowing red trails behind them. Again she traced, hitting systems and relays from the edge of the galaxy through to the Citadel.

"Shepard, should we…?" Garrus started, but Shepard held up a hand to silence him.

"No... she's onto something. This is making sense."

"It is?" her XO asked.

Shepard ignored him, watching the glowing pattern form across the stars. Mathematical, logical, exactly how a Reaper would think. She reached out, as if she could touch the lights.

"This is how they're going to strike."

She whipped around to stare at her officers, to see if any of them were seeing what she was seeing. Across the board they stared at her with bemusement on their faces. Thane looked ever-so-slightly disgruntled as he spoke up. "Siha, perhaps you are not in the best state to be making judgements."

"No, I'm in the perfect state."

"What state?" Garrus asked.

"Look, look at this." She dragged Garrus to the console by the wrist and started pointing. "When the Reapers hit the relay system, they're going to spread out along these lines, so that they don't hit the Citadel one by one. They'll come in along six different paths, that way they'll hit the Citadel in groups of six. Or so they think."

"And how do you know this?" Garrus asked.

"Because that's what they always do, they just usually do it backwards. These planets are rich in eezo, traditionally populated, and poor places for defence. They can indoctrinate, mine, and then spread out to places with better defence. If Saren had succeeded in opening the Citadel relay they would have taken these paths as the first line of expansion. They're the safest, so that's how they're going to come in."

"Are you... Are you sure?"

"No."

"I'm sure," Lai interjected.

"Lai's sure." Shepard nodded, trying to ignore the fact that Garrus had taken on quite a noticeably blue tint. "Most of these planets already have herring relays; all we have to do is move the overload teams into place. This puts us three steps ahead of them."

Arrius nodded slowly, seeming to grasp the concept before anyone else. "I'll see to it immediately, Admiral."

"Brilliant. Lai, you're a genius. Next time, actually _tell_ someone that you're not trying to hijack the ship."

Lai shook her head. "Didn't have the time."

Shepard huffed; her much-needed private moment with Thane had been interrupted for Lai's eccentricity. She really needed to have a long talk with people about sensitivity to the rest of the crew in times of war and prioritising what was an emergency versus what was them being high maintenance.

Not that she expected Lai to make that mistake often; despite being difficult to understand, she was among the more sensible of the crew. Even when it looked like she was about to hijack the ship, there was a painfully rational explanation for it. So just why had she become so insistent on using the galaxy map right away?

A horrible thought rushed across Shepard's mind.

"Lai... why didn't you have enough time?"

Lai just looked back at her, stars reflected in enormous black eyes, expression grim.

"_Shepard._" Tali's voice was frantic in her ear. "_The last canary has gone dark. The Reapers are in the relay system. We have twelve minutes before they reach the Citadel._"

The news carried with it a moment of calm, the events of the past year, the past four years, funnelling into this one crystallised moment. The Reapers were here. The time for preparation was over.

Shepard stepped up to the console, taking a deep breath and opening up a ship-wide channel.

"The last canary is gone. The Reapers are here. All hands to stations, we are fully mobilised. Prepare to engage."

Shock settled over her officers standing behind her for a fleeting beat, and then they were gone, a flurry of activity as everyone prepared. Shepard gazed out over her suddenly chaotic CIC. It was time.

She opened up a channel to Operation: Overload.

"Kill the Citadel."

* * *

_No, the Robot holds none with the mind  
And a heart to comply  
Then I will disguise and grieve of those dead  
When I'm given the time_

_Run, little rabbit...  
Go hide in the blades of that grass...  
Run, rabbit, run _

"_Willing Well II: From Fear Through The Eyes Of Madness" - Coheed and Cambria_


	16. Chapter 16

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 16**

**Replace the Beams with Rotten Timbers**

* * *

It was night-time at the Citadel. There was no actual time, nor a sun to orbit, but the standardised time set them at just past 0200 hours. People had returned home, on the Presidium at least, a skeleton crew taking up all duties.

The _Tobruk_ drifted lazily outside the docking bays, not having clearance to dock until "morning". Kaidan knew he should have been sleeping, but that wasn't something that anyone was doing much of now. Most people didn't know that there was anything going on; only the higher ups in the military could guess at the situation. Instead he, like so many others, wandered like a zombie on his own ship, coffee in hand, unable to shut down his mind enough to sleep.

Shepard died. Shepard died. It rang back and forth in his head like church bells, too loud. She died, was held under duress by Cerberus, searched high and low for him, and when she found him, he called her a traitor and walked away. Tali had tried to put it nicely, saying that Shepard understood, but there really wasn't any way to soften that blow.

So he found himself on his CIC at 0200, mainlining coffee and wondering if he should contact her or leave her alone, when the air guard channel crackled to life.

"_All available ships, please assist. The quarians are tampering with the relay._"

"You get that, Lowe?" Kaidan asked his pilot.

"_On it, Commander._"

The _Tobruk _lurched to life, shaking awake the night crew. All his soldiers were asleep, but there was no call to rouse them. If the quarian ship was causing trouble it would be a space engagement, not ground.

"Citadel Air Guard, this is Alliance Commander Alenko on the cruiser _SSV Tobruk_. We are heading for the relay, please advise."

"_We have four quarians on the relay. We've managed to hack into their comm channel: they are planning to disable it. Fire order has been given._"

Kaidan headed for the cockpit, needing to see what was happening with his own eyes. The tiny quarian ship was totally surrounded by other ships, their mediocre weaponry picking away at its shielding. They'd definitely anticipated opposition and planned ahead – their shields were holding strong.

"Do you want to open fire, sir?" Lowe asked.

"Not yet." Kaidan watched. These were Shepard's people. He'd let fear get in the way the last time he could have proved his belief in her, and, watching the sabotage of the very lifeline of the Citadel, he was tempted to so again. But he'd been wrong last time, and she had paid the price.

The quarians' shielding flickered.

"Patch us through to the quarian comms."

Lowe nodded and the room filled with radio chatter.

"_Shields at 30%._"

"_How long do you need? We have thirty seconds on the shields._"

"_At least two minutes. Can you hold them off?_"

"_Dammit, circuit fried! We're screwed, people._"

They weren't even trying to get away. Whatever they were planning, they weren't worried that the attacking ships would kill them so much as disrupt their plans.

"_The kill order has been given. We take this thing down any way we can. It's been an honour, gentlemen._"

The words seemed to settle in slow motion before Kaidan's sleep-deprived brain registered what had just been said.

"Move, now! Back off!"

Lowe was quicker, hitting direct reverse just in time as a burst of light folded in on the relay, then exploded. Ships were hurled in every direction, torn apart, and the behemoth mass effect core floated out of its place. The relay fell to pieces.

* * *

"Kill Omega, send the lockdown order," Shepard ordered.

The galaxy map was ablaze, every Reaper contact glowing until the stars were dull by comparison.

"Kill ring one."

Sur'Kesh, Earth, Palaven and Thessia all grew dark.

"Overload teams are in moving into place at your directed locations, Shepard," Arrius told her.

"Distraction teams, on ring two, now." The slight seasickness of a relay jump made her falter for half a second. "Stealth teams, move in."

"_We have arrived at the designated location, Admiral._"

"Lai, a little help with the overload timing." She saw the woman move to her side out of the corner of her eye, not daring to take her eyes off the seizing galaxy map. "Distraction teams, ring three. Stealth teams, ring three. Suppression teams, ring four."

"Shepard, the Citadel overload had to be done with a nuclear charge. The Reaper relay is offline," Tali told her.

Dammit, that was losses very early on. She'd remember to honour their sacrifice later. "Open up a fleet-wide channel."

"Done, Admiral," her comm officer said.

Shepard took a deep breath. Usually she liked to have a little time to prepare her inspirational speeches, but the Reapers had to go and arrive weeks early.

"This is Admiral Shepard. The Reapers are here. We've spent almost a year leading up to this moment, and now that it's upon us, I know that a lot of you are still feeling unprepared. When this moment came fifty thousand years ago, the Protheans had one distress signal. They had a few hundred people hidden in safety.

"Today, we make the Reapers face something they have never faced before: resistance. They expect to have the element of surprise, they expect to find chaos; instead, they'll find us: every species united, every soldier armed and ready, every man prepared to fight to defend his people. This is _our_ home, and they're not invited.

"They think they're gods, and I hope they're right, because from this day onwards, every man in this fleet will go down in history as those who challenged gods and won.

"Fight hard. Make your species proud. Make yourselves proud. You've already made me proud."

Shepard gave the signal and the channel was cut. She met eyes with Thane, who nodded, proud of her. She believed every word that she'd said. It was time, and they were going to make it count. She was going to bring down on the Reapers something they'd never imagined. Sovereign's words on Virmire rang in her ears – its disdain, its condescension, its utter belief that organics could never pose a threat to him or his species. Now Sovereign was dust. So too would be its species.

"Ring four," Lai said.

"Kill ring four," Shepard ordered.

"Three hundred Reapers already through ring four," Tali told her. "Killing it."

"Ring two is active," a crewmen informed her. "All units in position."

"Four of six relays deactivated; approximately two hundred Reapers stopped at ring four."

"Kill ring three," Shepard said.

"Two overload teams lost; one suppression team engaged. Noveria is under threat."

"Let the Reaper land, engage on the ground."

"There will be high civilian casualties, Admiral."

"There were always going to be. Bring up visuals."

The galaxy map disappeared, replaced with a live feed from outside the ship, the relay ominously silent. If ring three was already hit, they were next.

"Ring three is active; Reapers engaged."

"Three of six relays killed. Rachni are taking heavy casualties; six strike teams have docked."

"Kill ring two."

"Ring two is active."

The relay lit up, mass effect core whirling to life with a blinding flash. Shepard pressed her lips together tightly, her eyes burning for not blinking. The first of the Reapers appeared. A gasp echoed around the CIC, all eyes wide at this enemy, amorphous until now.

Shepard held her breath. She had to wait. If she opened fire, they'd discover the trap and change plans. The relay lit up again, again, again. Her numbers had projected that sixty Reapers would be coming through this relay. She had to wait.

At fifteen Reapers she could breathe again. "All distraction teams, fire at will. Make it flashy."

The dreadnought sprang to life at her word, all weapons firing. The Reapers ground to a halt, piling up outside the relay. Thannix beams and slugs turned night into day, the entire fleet firing as one. A hundred ships behind the _Shepard_ tore through the sky, carving burns into the Reapers' armour.

The Reapers shrugged off the attack, surprised but undamaged. Their shielding was too strong, even firing as one the organics couldn't make a dent. Soon they were spreading out, getting into formation and preparing to return fire. Shepard hissed out a breath as the first beam was fired, instantly disintegrating one of the quarian ships.

"Evasive manoeuvres. Rachni, move in."

The sky darkened as the swarm moved in, gracefully darting around the weapons fire. They covered the Reapers on point, forcing the fleet to stop firing on the leaders as they simply swamped them.

The _Shepard_ took several blows, each rocking the ship, but didn't fall. Emergency teams raced through the CIC. She would have liked to have had the _Normandy_ active for this – another thannix cannon might have made a lot of difference – but her whole crew was staffing the _Shepard_. One krogan ship went down, reduced to a flaming meteor.

Shepard steeled herself. They had the Reapers' attention now.

"Strike teams, go."

Two dozen ships shot forward – fast, evasive ships that were carrying her ten-man strike teams. The Reapers hardly noticed, so busy were they with fending off the bombardment of the dreadnoughts and cruisers.

A thannix blast pierced the shielding of one vanguards, sending a chunk of metal the size of a small ship careening into space, dashing through a swarm of rachni, who scattered en masse. The fleet focussed fire on the crippled Reaper, losing ships as they went; one of the dreadnoughts suffered a long gash down its side, at least two tiers opened up to the vaccum. Blow by blow, they tore the Reaper apart.

Shepard let out an elated yelp; she hadn't expected any Reaper to fall in a head-on confrontation.

"Six of six relays killed, ring two secure."

"Focus fire on the flanks, let the rachni do their jobs."

The furious rain of fire continued, the _Shepard_'s pilot doing an admirable job of keeping them unharmed.

They had successfully brought the Reapers to a standstill.

Lai tugged on her hand and pointed to two Reapers high to their port side. Shepard nodded and directed the _Shepard_'s fire, drawing their attention. She could just barely see a strike team slip beside them while they were distracted.

"First strike team boarded," Tali reported. "Second strike team... third strike team boarded."

"Keep going," Shepard commanded. "Nearly there."

"Strike teams four through seven boarded."

"Hold the line."

Three geth drop ships exploded just outside the dreadnought, shaking the ship with the force. The Reapers had been surprised at first, but they'd since recovered and were dropping the organics – and their synthetic allies – like flies. They had to buy enough time for the last of the strike teams to infiltrate.

"Strike teams eight through ten are destroyed. Eleven through eighteen boarded... Nineteen destroyed."

A slug hit the _Shepard_, puncturing their shields. The ship shuddered, lights dimming. Shepard set her mouth, her knuckles white from gripping the console. They weren't going anywhere. The Reapers would have to bring a lot more than that if they wanted to rattle her. The fiery wreckage of a drop ship scraped along the hull, shearing away the ablative plating.

"The last strike team has boarded!" Tali announced.

"Start the retreat."

The herring relay could take only a couple of ships, or one single dreadnought, at a time, so the smaller ships began to filter off the battleground and returned to Omega, leaving the larger ships undefended.

The _Shepard_ was taking the worst of the damage despite the evasive piloting, but she knew it would hold. It would take nothing short of a miracle to bring them down. She watched the battle rage around them; it seemed almost surreal, as if she was not at its heart. If they had been planetside it would have been scorched beyond redemption. The wrath of God indeed.

The fleet filed out behind her, each of them protected in the shadow of the _Shepard_, until only the dreadnoughts remained.

"Incoming transmission from the Reapers, Admiral."

Shepard smiled grimly; she should have known that they couldn't let her get away without a lecture. "Patch it through, but continue the retreat."

The image from outside dimmed. She couldn't tell which Reaper had graced her ship with its presence, but she would know a Reaper's voice anywhere.

"_What do you hope to accomplish? This course of action only ends in your demise. Your death is inevitable._"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Shepard demanded. "Do you think your cowardly tactics will work, here?"

In the hologram she saw the Reaper on point falter, fail. The first strike team had succeeded, now it was their turn to taste death.

"_You cannot hope to win._"

"Relay is active, Admiral," her crewman told her.

Shepard smiled cruelly, savouring the knowledge that for the first time in history, these machines would know fear.

"I'm not going to win. You're going to yield."

Before the Reaper could reply, the _Shepard_ hit the relay and the channel was lost.

* * *

_Caught in the crossfire  
Compared to the step to the bone that might break  
It's too late to find a better way out of this  
With the finest regards that I lost  
In the cracks of this street _

"_Devil In Jersey City" - Coheed and Cambria_


	17. Chapter 17

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 17**

**Befriend a Distant State While Attacking a Neighbour**

**

* * *

**

Shepard didn't move as the shuttle docked with the _Normandy_, so close to sleep that she considered taking a nap before getting to her feet. She would have stayed if she hadn't been in desperate need of a shower.

Playing suppression force with the krogans was intense, even in only semi-populated areas. The Reapers apparently thought to build up their forces slowly since heavily-populated planets were so closely guarded, seemingly unaware of the wide monitoring systems in place. Keeping up with a few thousand krogans was exhausting, but when the fight was against the indoctrinated it was emotionally tiring as well.

Shepard was covered in a rainbow of blood. A few Collectors, more than a few geth, and a cavalcade of sapients from every species, not to mention the civilians caught in the crossfire. The fighting was getting dirty. They'd lost a few planets, but the first weeks of the war had seen more than a third of the Reapers fall. It was a victory like none had accomplished before.

Her breathing was just becoming deep when she was pulled to her feet. A petulant grumble escaped her lips but didn't deter her aggressor, an arm wrapping around her waist and supporting her off the shuttle.

"Thane..." she whined.

"You need sleep, siha. You're useless in this state."

"I _was_ sleeping."

"You will sleep better in your bed. We have six hours before we reconvene with the _Shepard_."

Shepard whined in the back of her throat but offered no further protest, resting her weight on his shoulders. Six whole hours. A luxury she had forgotten.

"You know, there's something else we could be doing with six hours." She could hardly believe that she was suggesting it, but dammit, she _was_ going to get the chance to shag him, Reapers or no. The very idea gave her a second wind. This was the closest thing she'd had to an opportunity since the attack.

Thane chuckled. "I wouldn't be flattered if you fell asleep in such a situation."

"I wouldn't," she protested. "I won't be able to sleep when I'm thinking about you, anyway."

He gave no answer beyond pressing his nose against hers and drawing her into a long, deep kiss. Oh, damn, he must have been wanting it as badly as her if he was so easily convinced. She must have tasted and smelled terrible, covered with the viscera of battle, but he didn't seem to mind.

"_Shepard, I have an incoming transmission from the Council,_" EDI said.

"Tell the Council to fuck off," Shepard groaned.

"_That would not be advisable_."

"Alright, I'm there. Tell them I'm coming."

She didn't move, still pressed against Thane's chest, trying to find some hidden reserve of energy to get her through the next half hour. God give her strength, she did not want to deal with those old coots right then, not when she was exhausted and not when she could be tossing Thane about the room instead.

Thane just smiled, ever good humoured and understanding. "Speak with them, siha. The Citadel must be in disarray. Your people need reassurance."

She laughed without humour. "I have a lot to say to them, but reassurance isn't even on the radar."

"You have many unresolved issues with them. Now is your time."

She sighed heavily and pulled out of his arms. "Now indeed. I'll catch up with you soon."

She reluctantly pulled out of his arms and started toward the comm room. It had been thirty six hours since she'd last slept, and at this point she refused to be held responsible for what she said to the Council.

The monotonous hum of the elevator nearly put her to sleep on the ride up, but she slapped her face, hoping the sting could keep her conscious a few more minutes. She pulled her blood-matted hair over her shoulder, vainly combing her fingers through it, as if there was some hope of appearing presentable before a decon shower and possibly a face transplant. If she had to face the Council, maybe it was best to look like a psychotic zombie.

Mordin tried to talk to her as she made her way through the lab, but she waved him off. No time. Council, then sleep. Then Thane.

She hit the activation button on the console, steeling herself for what was sure to come. The smug, irritating faces of the Council appeared before her and she mentally cursed herself for recommending Anderson as the human representative. If this was Udina she could just defame the lot of them across the board, but her old friend and father figure made his presence known and she had to at least pretend to behave herself.

"Well, hello," she greeted. "I see you figured out how to communicate through our relay."

"_Is this some kind of joke, Shepard?_" the asari councillor asked. "_This is terrorism._"

"And it's lovely to see you as well, Councillor. I take it that you've also figured out how to access the security feeds on our end and know what's going on out here."

"_Yes. This is most disturbing._"

"Disturbing? That's certainly one way of putting it. I am also quite _disturbed_ by the loss of a hundred thousand soldiers and five times that in civilians. Guerrilla warfare through mass relays is a very _disturbing_ proposition."

"_There is no need for your snide remarks, Shepard,_" the turian councillor cut in. "_If we weren't trapped at the Citadel, our fleet would be beside yours._"

"Ah, yes, the 'council fleet'." She emphasised the words with air quotes. "The fleet of ships supposedly waiting in Citadel space to protect the galaxy. We have dismissed those rumours."

Alright, she was enjoying this a little.

"_Shepard,_" Anderson cautioned, "_this isn't productive._"

"_We need the codes to activate your relays. We can have the Council fleet mobilised in six hours._"

Shepard sighed. A tempting offer; unfortunately not one she could accept. "The codes will be given to you when the Reapers are gone. All inhabitants of the Citadel have been declared indoctrinated. No one gets out until a further assessment can be made."

"_This is outrageous!_" The turian might have gone red in the face if his species possessed the ability. Instead he bared rows of razor-sharp teeth in a growl.

"About as outrageous as you all ignoring the threat until it was too late. My people are dying out here because you were too stubborn to take this seriously, and that's gone beyond the point of just being aggravating. You've left the galaxy vulnerable at every turn, advanced the Reapers' agenda. You are living on Reaper technology, which is known to have indoctrinating effects. We have no way of knowing what kind of threat you pose and no intention of finding out."

"_Shepard._" Anderson's tone was one of reconciliation; he was going to try reasoning with her. "_You can't have declared us all enemies. We need that relay to supply the Citadel. It's already been weeks since the last shipments came through._"

"We won't let you starve, but you may need to ration. What food and other supplies we can spare will be sent and traded at a price of our choosing."

"_So you trap us and then extort us?_" the salarian asked. "_This is treason__._"

"I'm not one of your citizens anymore. Consider the money your contribution to the war effort, a fraction of the price paid by other species for the protection we're providing. And if you intend to capture one of our ships for their IFF, be absolutely certain that you can replicate it, because any hostile action will bring an immediate end to our shipments."

"_You, Shepard, are a terrorist and a traitor. We will not bend to your threats. Give us the activation codes._"

Shepard raised an eyebrow derisively at the turian. She wondered if he considered himself threatening, while she thought him a gnat buzzing in her ear.

"You think you're in any position to be making demands? You think after everything you've put me through I'm going to pander to you? Your ignorance, your arrogance, your refusal to see the truth that was sitting right in front of you cost me _everything_. You're worse than ignorant – you're irrelevant. Left in your hands this galaxy would have already fallen a dozen times over. So do what you've always done. Sit in your chamber, pretend to know what's best, and let me deal with the things you'd rather ignore. Joker, lose this channel."

"_That sounded cathartic,_" Joker said as the Council faded into nothing.

"Yeah, it was. Liara can deal with them from now on."

Well, at least that was cleared up. Now sleep. Then Thane. Maybe food first. He had said that she was getting too skinny, and she'd developed the ability to swallow protein bars whole. Two minutes it'd take to eat, not even a problem. Wouldn't do to be woken up by a growling stomach or lack the energy for everything she planned to do after her nap.

Another goddamn ride in the elevator. Her kingdom for some stairs.

Half the crew were in the mess, chowing on massive servings of food. Garrus put down his fork and led a round of applause as she entered, making her blush.

"So that was broadcast around the ship, huh?" she asked.

"You bet, Shepard," Garrus replied. "You've been waiting to say that to them for how long?"

"At least three years." She paused as Thane coughed behind the turian. It sounded bad. Her heart clenched, but he met her eyes as shook his head, as if to say that it wasn't something to worry about. She focussed back on Garrus. "Do you think I made my point?"

"Inescapably. You do know that all hell is going to break lose when we have to let them out, right?" He wasn't looking particularly concerned at that eventuality.

"What are they going to do? Go to war with the entire UTWB, including the krogan and rachni? I don't think so. Oh, they'll rage and lecture, but they can't do anything serious and they know it. That's what makes it so very delicious."

Thane coughed again, worse this time, almost dissolving into a fit, and she missed Garrus' response. That didn't sound right. His cough was always clear, like an irritation of the throat. This cough was thick and raspy, shaking the ridges over his throat. He pressed a hand against his chest.

"Shepard?" Garrus asked.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I was saying that you probably just had all our citizenships revoked. That's impressive."

"Coming from the man who pissed off every major merc organisation in the terminus, I'll take that as a compliment. You weren't planning to go back into Council space again anytime soon, were you?" She grinned, remembering their wild flight from Omega after rescuing him.

Garrus laughed. "I never liked Palaven, anyway. Still doing better than you – you're not welcome anywhere."

Three years ago he wouldn't dare tease her like this. Overawed C-Sec officer Garrus Vakarian had nothing but respect for Spectres, even if his interpretation of them was a little closer to superheroes.

She punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"That's 'cause I drag your ugly mug around with me. They see me coming and say 'oh no, here comes Shepard, she has that god-awful turian thing with her', and..."

Shepard trailed off as Thane's coughing stopped abruptly with a strangled sound. She pushed past Garrus without a second thought, grabbing Thane by the shoulders – he could wave her off all he liked, but something was wrong. His eyes weren't focussing. She moved his hand from his chest and replaced it with her own. It felt like he was trying to breathe through gravel.

With one last wheeze, his stopped breathing altogether.

"Thane?" she asked, pressing her fingers to his lips, trying to feel air coming through. Nothing. His eyes drifted closed. "No, no, Thane, stay awake."

"Someone get the doctor!" a voice said.

The world crumbled around her as his body went limp. People were shouting; she couldn't make out the words. She laid him down on the bench and gently shook his shoulders.

"Thane, no, no, no. Wake up. I need you to wake up."

His lips were turning a strange yellow colour. She shook harder. No, this wasn't happening. He wasn't leaving her. Not today. She wasn't ready. He was going to wake up, cough and smile at her, apologise for worrying her.

"Come on," she whispered. "Not now, not yet, it's not time. Please, baby, wake up."

His cool skin was growing colder; his arms fell to dangle beside him, knuckles scraping the floor. Shepard slapped his face, trying to shock him awake. She could feel the tears spilling from her eyes but it didn't register. She wasn't crying, because he wasn't leaving her. God, please, no, not yet. He had to live to see the Reapers defeated, he had to live to be by her side; this was what everything had led up to, he couldn't miss it.

Someone was trying to pull her away. Hands tried to dislodge her, but she couldn't let go. She had to wake him up.

"Please, please," she begged. "Don't leave me, I'm not ready. Wake up! Dammit, Thane, wake up!"

"Get her back!" Someone else, someone trying to move her. Dr. Chakwas? The outside world was chaos; people yelling, struggling against her biotics, trying to pull her off. If she could just get through to him...

"Baby, not now! You're not allowed to leave me yet! The ocean can wait for you... please…."

A sob wracked her chest, loosening her grip for just a second, and she felt herself being pulled back, away from him. She struggled, freeing one arm, one leg, trying to claw her way back to him. She struck out at her attackers, her eyes still fixed on Thane's lifeless face. A crash somewhere in the distance. An iron grip around one wrist that she couldn't dislodge.

No... he couldn't leave...

Shepard felt a weight press against her chest, slamming her onto her back. She cried out as something sharp pierced her neck. Visions of grey and peach swam in her vision, shadows pinning her to the ground, until her vision tunnelled and she finally let exhaustion take her.

* * *

_Goodbye, my almost lover,_

_Goodbye my hopeless dream,_

_I'm trying not to think about you_

_Can't you just let me be?_

_So long my luckless romance,_

_My back is turned on you,_

_Shoulda known you'd bring me heartache;_

_Almost lovers always do._

"_Almost Lover" - A Fine Frenzy_


	18. Chapter 18

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 18**

**Openly Repair the Gallery Roads, But Sneak Through the Passage of Chencang**

* * *

"Shepard."

Shepard groaned, a headache pounding behind her eyes. What happened?

"Shepard, wake up."

She let out a groan. "Five more minutes."

The light was too bright, even behind closed eyes, and she draped her hand over her face to keep it out. A clawed hand on her shoulder jostled her, painfully clearing the fog of sleep. Something had happened, she was sure of it. She'd yelled at the council, but she couldn't quite remember how she'd ended up in bed after that. Or why Garrus would be in her quarters, trying to pry her hand away from her face.

"Sorry, Shepard, but we need you now. Eden Prime is active, the surveillance team just reported in and we're the only strike team in the area."

Why was he sorry? They were at war, he was allowed to wake her up. With another groan she opened her eyes, blinking against the sudden invasion of light. She shook her head and her eyes began to focus.

Shepard paused. Garrus was giving her a look of the most intense pity, as though waking her from her nap was the cruellest...

Thane.

"Thane," she gasped. "Where is –"

"Stable on the _Shepard_. He hasn't woken up yet, but we need to get to Eden Prime. The Reapers are sitting on top of the herring relay, just like you predicted."

Reapers, Eden Prime, Thane, medbay, it all seemed to hover in the air for a moment, trying to penetrate her freshly awakened mind, before the situation settled over her. The Reapers were in a perfect position to be attacked, Thane didn't need her right now, she had to get up and into her hardsuit, they were going in.

"How many?" she asked.

"Six. They haven't made any attempt to land yet, they know they've been seen, so they're just sitting on the relay, waiting for us."

"Good. Help me into my suit. Have the other teams been informed?"

Garrus nodded. "Already in their ships."

Shepard staggered to her feet, she felt like she'd gone ten rounds with a colossus. They must have sedated her to calm her down. She vaguely remembered trying to fight off half the crew like a panicked idiot. The sight of him cold and not breathing had scared the ever loving hell out of her, she'd have to apologise to everyone, admirals couldn't just lose it in front of their crew like that.

Garrus helped her into her hardsuit, her limbs still uncoordinated as the sedative wore off. Well, at least she'd managed to get a few hours sleep. Thane was stable, no need to worry. At least, no more than usual. He was breathing again. Once the Reapers were dead she'd have something to tell him to cheer him up.

"Where are we?"

"Artemis Tau, ready to deploy at your signal."

She fitted her gauntlets and strapped them into place. "Good. Get everyone to the airlock, we prepare to dock in five minutes."

"On it, Shepard," Garrus said. He helped her with the last buckle and took his leave.

This was probably the best way to start her day, taking down a Reaper would be cathartic, if nothing else. War would not stop for her, and she didn't want to sink into self pity. She could have been complaining that it might have waited another few months, or she might have been heaped with less responsibility and been free to sit at her lover's side. That sort of thinking didn't help anyone. The facts were as they were, and she had a mechanical god to kill.

With a quick pass by the armoury for her guns, Shepard headed to the airlock. There would be no silliness about only taking one or two specialists with her, they needed every last man to get this done. She looked around.

"Where's Kasumi?"

Miranda gave her a blank look. "You broke her arm."

Damn, so that was the crash she remembered. "Oh."

"Are you alright, Shepard?" Samara asked, ever the mother.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry you all had to see me like that."

Her crew gave a general mumble, the larger portion of them looking like they couldn't care less if she wanted to have a freakout in the mess. Not that she could afford to do it again. It was shameful, she'd had so much time to prepare for Thane's eventual death, and still the very thought of it reduced her to an hysterical mess. He'd have words for her later, she was sure of it.

Her earpiece crackled with the movements of the other strike teams. Eden Prime had been a big risk, but she needed confirmed Reaper targets to plan ambushes and thin their numbers. It was a calculated risk. If they had landed before noticing the surveillance team the colony would have almost certainly been lost, but as she predicted the Reapers couldn't resist staying in space to greet her.

"_Coming up on the relay, Shepard. All strike teams are in position._"

"Take us through, Joker."

The Reaper relay lit up and the ship shuddered as they passed through, shooting straight to Eden Prime. If she had predicted properly, the Reapers would be so focussed on the herring relay that they wouldn't even notice half a dozen stealth ships sneaking up from the Reaper relay.

"_Smooth sailing, they haven't noticed us._"

"Take us in nice and easy."

She could only hope that the other ships accompanying them were being as stealthy. The _Normandy_ was the only ship operating with a full stealth drive, the others only partly concealed, so a quick and precise entrance was necessary.

"_Pulling up now, bring me back a souvenir._"

The airlock door swished open, bringing them within a hundred metres of the Reaper, near the hatch. Shepard nodded, and her techs took the plunge, Legionand Tali leaping down to the surface. Shepard followed, leading the rest of the team while the techs worked on the hatch, omni-tools beeping erratically. They hit the burnished bronze hull, skittering along the slippery metal, latching their magnetics to the Reaper.

The _Normandy_ was gone the instant the team was secured, disappearing back through the Reaper relay. The Reapers had noticed them, at this point, but six ships zipped between red cannon blasts and vanished. There was nothing the monsters could do about their new case of fleas.

The hatch opened, a puff of oxygen escaping into space. Shepard glanced around, her crew were ready, although she felt the acute absence of one sniper. That would weaken them. Scions required distance, sending people up close was dangerous and expecting Garrus to take them out on his own was optimistic. She'd have to blow some of her heavy munitions on any they came across.

"Let's move," she said.

She led the way, Jack on one side, Samara on the other. Miranda and Grunt flanked them, ready to lay down suppression fire.

The inside of a Reaper was cold, in temperature and atmosphere. No art, as Mordin would point out. No soul. Just locking gears, running tubes. Her mouth felt dry and tangy as it always did around high eezo concentration. Disgusting. Everything that made sapient creatures valuable, everything that made them worth defending, was stripped away to efficient bare bones.

A long, empty walkway stretched out before them and Shepard curled her lip. Same old trick. A trick that had no doubt killed more than a few of her strike teams.

They'd get to about halfway and the Reaper would suddenly spring to life, send husks pouring over the side rails, swamping them. It had scared the ever loving hell out of her the first time it had happened, and she'd barely escaped with her life. Jack had to be revived afterwards. What a cheap shot. She'd be more irritated at the situation if she wouldn't have done the exact same thing.

"Miranda, time for a piggyback."

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You heard me." Shepard turned her back to the Operative and slapped her ass for emphasis. "Let's do this."

"You can't be serious."

"We're not going anywhere until you have your fine ass on my back, got it?"

Out of respect for her friend she didn't turn back to see what was surely a biblical eye roll. A hand on her shoulder had her grinning despite herself. It had not been a good day, but at the very least, she was giving Miranda Lawson a piggyback. The shorter woman jumped onto her back and settled her weight, her whole body stiff, like she was trying to pretend this wasn't happening.

"Happy now?" Miranda asked.

"Ecstatic. Everyone else stay back. Jack, Zaeed, keep this end of the walkway clear."

She started along the walkway, careful not to jostle Miranda. Sure, this wasn't ideal, but she did have a plan to back it up. The chasm yawning below looked so empty. She didn't want to think about where the husks came from. They'd been people once. Now they were stuffed into dark vents in this godless place, to be thrown at invading forces like cannon fodder.

They reached halfway and Shepard rolled her eyes at the growl that came from somewhere below her. Predictable, that was the Reapers' problem. They would have had her well and truly overwhelmed if they'd left it until she had reached the end.

Miranda stiffened, but Shepard shook her head, continuing her slow pace. They started to crawl up, over the railings, through loose grates, dozens of them. She kept walking. One grabbed at her arm, but she pushed it off, ignoring Miranda's squeal and the burst of SMG fire. She just needed one to crawl up in the right position.

One unfortunate husk clambered up at the far end of the platform and Shepard took her chance. She stepped into a charge, bursting through the rapidly growing horde. Blue light flared and she cleared the mob, bringing them to the far end of the walkway and slamming the husk into the void.

Shepard dropped Miranda, bringing her biotic to bear and mowing down the husks with a shockwave. Jack did the same from the other end. The buzz of Miranda's SMG tore through them.

The husks were cleared in seconds, torn apart.

"Let's keep this going, people, I have places to be."

Shepard waved everyone forward, keeping the pace up. They'd all done this before, there was no excuse to be slack. The Reaper's insides were easy to navigate, EDI's maps were perfect. Every one of these vanguards were the same.

The hit on the Collectors had clearly devastated their forces. The majority of the opposition came in the form of husks, easily brushed aside or taken down in a hail of fire. It was a good method of stress relief, but Shepard wanted to be by Thane's side, and every second they spent fighting off husks was a second she had to wait.

A groan of disgust echoed around her as the scions made their appearance, the only form of humanoid that gave them pause for thought. A shockwave took out Shepard's shields and she scooted backwards.

"Dammit, Collectors incoming!" Jacob shouted.

Well that was just inconvenient. Avoiding shockwaves meant breaking cover. Collectors meant gunfire. An irritating combination.

"Grunt, take out the scion on the left. Miranda, Garrus and... and..." Thane was the other who had warp. Someone else had warp, didn't they? Her brain struggled to filter through the abilities of her crew. Incinerate! That would do it. "And Mordin, take out the one on the right. Everyone else on the Collectors."

"What about the middle scion?" Garrus asked, already priming his sniper rifle.

"Leave that to me."

She primed her shotgun, hearing the satisfying whine as it powered up. A shot hovered at the base of the barrel, building, singing. It would hit with the force of five rockets, more if she was at point blank range.

Mass effect fields formed around her and she stepped forward, charging clean through one of the Collectors and sending the scion stumbling back. She levelled her shotgun and let the shot go, cleaving a hole where half its face used to be.

Thinking fast she stepped back, circling, bouncing away from the shockwaves that tore up the ground. Her shotgun was charging again. The Collectors had noticed her, they sent bullets bouncing off her shields and she raised a barrier. Some cover wouldn't go astray.

The reassuring hum of her fully primed shotgun told it she was ready, and she brought it up again. The shot severed the scion's head and its body toppled.

No time to recover, Shepard charged a limping Collector, tackling it behind cover and punching until it stopped struggling. She slumped against the barricade, hearing the death rattle of a scion. That charge really took it out of her, she was breathing hard and her joints felt loose and weak. She leaned her head against the wall that sheltered her, hoping that the last scion didn't take this opportunity to shockwave her. Just a little further and they'd be at the Reaper's core, ready to take it down.

"That was the last of them."

She could have kissed Garrus for alerting her.

With one last gasp for air she rose, leading them forward again.

The core of a Reaper was just like she might have expected. She'd seen them before, and it seemed appropriate. Their heart, their lifeblood, enough eezo to finance her entire war, all compacted into this one location. It didn't beat, didn't pulse, didn't seem to lead to anything. It wasn't the human or krogan or drell heart, asymmetrical, vulnerable, made of muscles and valves working in symphony, kind of ugly and definitely gross; no, this heart was a perfect sphere, beautiful, fortified and glowing.

Goddamn machines.

"Tali, Legion, get that cover open and keep it open."

They nodded, already buried elbow deep in the wires and switches surrounding the core. The gurgle of husks filled the room. So original. Shepard supposed that if all Reapers were machines, they would have come up with a strategy consensus, if there was no personality there was no room for disagreement. They'd decided that this was the best way to repel invaders. Soon they'd realise it wasn't working and change.

Biotics exploded behind Shepard as she brought her rocket launcher to bear. A Reaper core took six rockets. She would have used her shotgun if it wasn't for the fantastic aiming capabilities of the rocket launcher.

Rocket one, rocket two. The core cover snapped shut.

"Working on it..." Tali said.

A rain of fire covered the outlying platforms, husks swept up in the storm.

"_Shepard. Human. Your attempts are doomed to fail._"

Shepard rolled her eyes. This wasn't the first Reaper to try to talk her down while she was killing it. The cover opened again.

"Funny thing," she said, while firing her rockets. "From where I'm standing we're doing alright."

"_If I fall, I will be replaced. We cannot be stopped. We are your genetic destiny._"

"The last person who said that to me was sterile. You can quit it with the husks, you know you're dead, and I have somewhere I really need to be."

The husks did not oblige her schedule. She sighed, firing off another rocket.

"_You cannot succeed. We are eternal. We will darken your skies with –_"

"Blah, blah, blah. You know, everyone always wants to talk. Ever since I woke up, it seems like that's _all_ anyone wants to do. People rig up elaborate systems so they can talk at me without me shooting them. I have a person assigned just to manage the talking that people want to do. I found a talking geth. A talking geth! Like the laws of the universe altered themselves just so someone else could talk to me! Frankly, it's outrageous. I have places to be."

"Shepard?" Garrus asked, a note of aggravation in his voice. "Do you want to talk a little less right now?"

"Right, right."

She shot off the final rocket, watching with pleasure as the core fizzled and burned. There was a flash of light through the systems, and the Reaper died without ceremony. The last of the husks jerked and spasmed before falling to the ground, puppets with their strings cut.

One more gone.

Shepard felt like she was walking through a mist as they called in Joker and leapt back aboard the _Normandy_. They met no more resistance. It was easy, routine. The tugs were called in to drag six wreckages into the star and Eden Prime was cut from the grid, the colony finally protected. One more victory for them, and it felt good, considering how many losses they'd suffered.

Soon they'd adapt, wouldn't be fooled by cheap tricks, undoubtedly they'd used the red herring trick for the last time. But for now they were easy wins. Around the galaxy her fleet had just burst through the Reaper relays, and she heard the statistics filtering back to her through Arrius. Eighty percent kill rate. They'd only lost a handful of strike teams, and had taken out nearly seventy Reapers.

She smiled, leaning heavily against the bulkhead outside the cockpit.

Lai hijacked the comm channel to tell her about future movements, rambling too fast for Shepard to just tell her to shut up and write it down. Instead she laughed and thanked Lai, telling her that they'd go over it again when they reconvened with the _Shepard_.

She flicked the comm channel over to medbay.

"Dr. Chakwas?"

"_Hello, Admiral. Congratulations on another victory. The Councillor will be very proud._"

"Come on, Doctor, tell me what I want to hear."

There was a ringing silence for a few moments. "_Thane is stable. He suffered a full pulmonary failure, the metastatic progress to his heart might be reparable, but... I wish I had better news, Shepard._"

"We knew this was coming. Just tell me when he's going to wake up."

The silence again. Longer this time. A chill took over in Shepard's chest.

"_I'm sorry, Shepard. He's not going to wake up._"

"No," she begged.

"_You're his medical proxy. It falls to you to decide when to take him off life support._"

Shepard pressed her lips together, ignoring the burning of her eyes. So that's why Garrus had looked so sorry for her. Why none of them had mentioned it when she had to have her head in the game. Thane was gone in all but body. She coughed, trying to clear her throat enough to speak.

"Jo..." Her voice failed. She put a hand to her mouth and tried again. "Joker. Take us back home. And call Bailey, get Kolyat over to the _Shepard_."

"Aye aye, Shepard."

She hung her head for a second, sniffed, wiped at her eyes, and stood up straight again. She had to be strong. She had to let Kolyat see his father one last time. And then she had to give the word to kill him.

* * *

_These broken bones, this busted smile,  
My head it hurts, I should be leaving now,  
I hear your words, they call my name,  
I won't go back, you must be outta your head. _

"_Broken Bones" - Birds of Tokyo_


	19. Chapter 19

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 19**

**If Everything Else Fails, Retreat**

**

* * *

**

Shepard looked out the infirmary windows, her arms crossed, waiting for Kolyat to arrive. Her armada wasn't looking as healthy as it once had, the repair teams were pulling triple shifts, and more than one ship had been disassembled for parts. The rachni swarms were smaller, lingering longer, trying to fight and rest and tend to their stressed queen. More difficult to accept was how many ships had never made it back at all. The distraction teams had been hit the hardest.

There were a lot of people grieving. She was one of them.

Kal'Reegar's team had been killed while she'd slept, down to the man. Tali was taking it hard. Two outer turian colonies were gone, not even indoctrinated, just wiped off the face of the galaxy. The Reapers mustn't have had time to land. Garrus' aunt and cousins had been on one of them. New Canton had been taken out, Crewman Yang was devastated.

The death toll was climbing on both sides. It would get better. Every prediction had pointed to this as a likely outcome. The first few weeks, the first month, would be bloody. Planets would be lost, ships would be lost, friends and family would be lost. That was the point of Omega and Exodus, a stronghold that the Reapers wouldn't lay a finger on, and it had worked so far.

But there was nothing she could do to protect Thane. The sea had demanded him, and she had no choice but to yield. People were dying in their hundreds of thousands all around them, thannix and eezo, blood and tears, and he had to choose now to succumb to disease. That wasn't like him, he was usually so much more considerate.

She turned from the window, staring at her lover's body. That's all it was. He wasn't brain dead, but if he woke up he'd be in pain, suffer the indignity of needing machines to keep him alive, it was more merciful this way. Thane would never see this as survival. He'd see it as denial of the truth, as her trying to keep him from the sea despite it being his time.

It was keeping him from Irikah.

It was horrible to think that way. This wasn't about her. This was about making the right choice for Thane. There were no treatment options left, aside from a transplant, which he had rejected. This little dream was over, drawing him into her world, bringing him out of his battle sleep, living with him as her companion. It was time to surrender him back to his wife and she would have to do so unselfishly.

He was pale, emerald skin lightening into grassy yellow, just like he'd looked the first time she met him, bathed in the sunrise.

So many people dying, so much bloodshed. She sat at this bedside, grasping his cold, unresponsive hand. She might have kissed him if he didn't have a tube down his throat, forcing him to keep breathing. Would he care that his hands were so carelessly draped beside him, instead of clasped in prayer? Would he want any of his things beside him? She felt woefully unprepared. Nothing she knew about him allowed her any private insight, there was nothing she could do to comfort herself or him.

"Shepard?"

She looked up through bleary eyes. Miranda. "Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for Kolyat."

"You need a shower, and you need to talk to your captains."

Shepard cast an eye over herself. She did need a shower. No one had washed her while she was sedated, and the grime that had covered her after their suppression mission was now caked and drying. If she looked like a zombie before, she couldn't imagine what she looked like now.

"No."

Miranda frowned deeply. "We're at war, Shepard, you have thousands of people watching you and you're letting your personal attachments get in the way of –"

"Of what?" she asked. "My captains are reporting in through Garrus, Arrius and Lai, all of whom have the good sense not to try to crawl up my ass right now. What is it with you and questioning my authority? I've given up everything I ever had to be your damn hero, and now I need some peace for a few minutes."

"Shepard... you look like a bloody husk." Miranda gave her a pleading look. Maybe it was concern for a friend and a CO, but Shepard didn't think she'd ever see past the heartless, pragmatic side of Miranda.

"I don't care what I look like. Get out of my face."

"I know... I know this is hard for you." She looked like she'd bitten a lemon. The ice queen herself showing sympathy. "But he's not going anywhere. Your soldiers are, and they need you, they look up to you. If you fall apart, it's going to cost innocent lives."

Ah. So she'd learned a thing or two about manipulating her CO. Good for her. "Kolyat just docked. Once I've talked to him I'll clean up and come to the CIC. I have my comm until then."

Miranda nodded and left without another word.

She was right. The time for mourning was short. The hanar would want to know. His rank would probably earn him a state funeral – or the hanar equivalent – on Kahje. He was the only member of any hanar species to be represented on the _Shepard, _he'd proven the validity of the Compact, it would be something they'd want to mourn. Maybe it would raise awareness of Kepral's, maybe get the scientists the funding they needed to really expand on the research.

Shepard rested her forehead against his cool hand, making a plea, a silent prayer, a wish, but she wasn't sure for what. She didn't want him to wake up, not to this. She wouldn't waste her hopes and dreams on a miracle, no part of her believed he would spontaneously get better, or that she would wake up to find it all a bad dream. There was no middle ground, the most she could hope for was a quick and painless death.

_Please, don't let this be happening._

She could pray for grace, serenity. No, she didn't want it. Thane deserved to be mourned. He deserved a weeping widow. The batarians had taken his widow from him, so she'd have to substitute.

The door opened and she looked up to see Kolyat. His expression was unfathomable, dark eyes bottomless, but his eyes fluttered, a sure tell that he was in turmoil.

"Kolyat," she said, sniffed, wiped her eyes. "Thank you for coming."

"I want to be here. You look like hell."

She gave a sad smile. "I'm not feeling so hot, either."

"When did it happen?"

"Just after we left Yahuk. He's asleep... Dr. Chakwas is keeping him that way. He won't..." Her voice broke. "He won't breathe on his own again."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"N-no. He refused a transplant, won't take the chance at life from someone else."

"Is he in pain?"

Shepard stood up, releasing Thane's hand and fidgeting with his chart despite her shaking hands, anything to keep the tears from spilling. "No, he's on the maximum dosage of morphine. When we're ready, Dr. Chakwas will give him a higher dose, he'll go peacefully. We have to arrange a funeral. I don't know where... where Irikah was buried – sent off – I don't know what you call... I don't..."

Before she realised he'd moved she was pressed against his chest, his arms around her. Shepard buried her face in his neck, a single sob escaping her, impossible to be stifled. He smelled like his father. The heaviness in her chest returned, so painful it felt like she'd been shot. She wrapped her arms around his waist, trying to stop herself from shaking as the impossible grief settled over her, sapping all the strength from her body. Kolyat didn't speak, didn't try to comfort her with empty words. Things weren't alright, they weren't going to be alright, there was nothing to be said or done.

The feats of this amazing man were going to disappear, dissolved by a syringe full of morphine. She would never see him smile again, never kiss him, hear his voice, feel his hands on her or watch as he spectacularly beat Grunt at sparring. He'd be wrapped in seaweed and lowered into the sea, his body decomposing far from sight, just food for the fish.

_I have to leave you, siha. Forgive me._

The memory of his voice tore another dry sob from her, and Kolyat stroked her back, trying vainly to comfort her. He was what was left, the creation of two people taken unfairly, long before their time. If all was right in the galaxy he would have had two parents with him all his life, living on Kahje, she never would have met any of them, never would have aided or abetted or saved any of them.

"Shepard," Kolyat said. "I'll take care of it. You have a war to fight."

"I know," she pulled from his arms, wiping at her face although no tears had fallen. "I'm sorry, I have so much to do, and I usually have Thane... I have him to help me... Warp the scions..."

Kolyat clearly didn't understand what a scion was, but nodded anyway, seemingly deep in thought. "Don't apologise."

"He was... is... was... He'll be missed. I know you two weren't that close, he wasn't there for you, he wanted to be a better example for you. He loves you. I think he signed up with me so he could make the galaxy better for you. Saved the galaxy for you. We couldn't have done it without him. I don't... I don't know how we'll do it now." She cursed herself, cursed her voice for cracking, cursed her mind for not bringing forth anything eloquent or even whole. This was Thane's son, he deserved to hear his father's deeds and respect spoken with the adulation they were due, not the broken ramblings of a woman who couldn't keep herself together.

Kolyat frowned, folding his hands behind his back. He paced over to the window, taking in the stars, the fleet, the wreckages and rachni. Working on Omega must have been doing him good, he had begun to hold himself with a fraction of his father's poise and dignity. She might have been fooled, for just a second.

"Tell me about him."

Shepard jerked at the unexpected request. She didn't want to talk. She couldn't. She shook her head, her chin trembling. She had to be strong, strong for Kolyat. He would forever remember what she said, what she thought of his father.

"He's... amazing. We wouldn't be here, _I _wouldn't be here, without his guidance. He must have saved hundreds of our snipers with his command and teaching. If he hadn't been there to tell me to go after Lai... I can't even... we would have been killed. The galaxy is better off for having him in it, Kolyat. Even if it was just for a while. You should be proud to call him your father."

The boy nodded, taking on the information, but not replying. He frowned, eyes fluttering. She couldn't believe that she'd managed to speak. Processing what she'd said seemed to take something out of Kolyat, his shoulders slumped a little, his lips turned down.

"He won't take a transplant?" he said.

Shepard shook her head. "No."

"And you won't give him one anyway?"

"No." She bit her lip, it was hard to respect his wishes on this. Even if she disagreed, even if he was misguided and wrong, it was still his choice.

"What about... a living donor?"

"A living..?"

Kolyat didn't meet her eye. "If a lung was donated from a living person no one would die, and he wouldn't be taking it from another patient."

"I... We never talked about... Who would donate one anyway?" She looked up at him and suddenly what he was suggesting clicked in her head. "No, Kolyat. No. I won't. He wouldn't want that."

"I want to."

"I don't care, you can't... he'd... he's done so much to protect you."

Kolyat's eye's narrowed. "Get your doctor in here."

"Fine, she can tell you. This is insane. You're probably not even the same tissue type as him, and you're a minor, this is just..."

Shepard hit the page for Dr. Chakwas, who must have been waiting for it, because she was in the room within seconds, finding the pair bristling, trying to stare each other down. Shepard couldn't even believe this, Kolyat didn't want anything to do with Thane a year ago, now he was trying to get cut open to save him. God, this could save him, and she had to say no.

"Yes, Admiral?" the doctor said.

"Can you please tell Kolyat that we can't do a living donor transplant for Thane?"

Dr. Chakwas looked at her in bemusement. "On what grounds?"

"On... on... all the grounds! It can't even be legal, Kolyat is only eighteen, he's the wrong tissue type, we don't have Thane's consent... it would be insane!"

"I'm old enough, I don't even know what a tissue type is, and who cares if we have consent, this could save him!" Kolyat said.

They glared at each other for a few seconds before turning to the doctor. She must have been expecting to be called in to pull the plug, because this had clearly caught her by surprise. She glanced between the two for a moment before regaining her composure and clearing her throat.

"I'm afraid, Admiral, that Kolyat is right," she said.

"What?" Shepard asked.

"There are no laws to govern age of consent in Omega airspace, drell have only one tissue type, and Mr. Krios never asked to be excluded from living donation, as his proxy your consent is what matters."

"Well I don't give it. No. No, I won't do that to him."

"That's bullshit!" Kolyat growled. "All that stuff you said before, was any of it true?"

"Of course it was!"

"Then why are you just giving up?"

"You could _die_, Kolyat! What do you think would be left of him if you did? Do you think he'd ever recover? I've been under that knife, I know what it feels like to have people make decisions like this and get it wrong. This is wrong." God, why was he making this so hard? All she wanted to do was say yes, yes, _yes, _save him, do whatever it takes. _Bring Thane back to me._ And she couldn't.

Kolyat took a step toward her, fists clenched in anger, eyes shining with purpose. "You told me that this wasn't glorious. You told me it was messy and underhanded, and we don't do it to fight, we do it to protect the people we care about. That's my father lying there. I want to save him."

_Please do not try to change me._

She looked at Thane, his face impassive, unaware of the battle that raged around him. He was so pale. Her stomach clenched with an undeniable need to have him by her side again, to do anything that would save him. She wanted to see his eyes lit with the same passion that Kolyat now displayed. She needed him.

She turned pleading eyes on Kolyat, begging him to understand, and when she spoke her voice was nothing more than a whimper.

"He would never forgive me."

Kolyat scowled. "So what? If he's not your boyfriend then he's better off dead?"

Shepard closed her eyes and bowed her head, trying not to let that blow break her. He was right, even if he was an ass about it. Thane would never forgive her, but he'd be alive, for the fleet and for his son. Alive and hating her was better than dead. Her crushed chest howled at the thought of this betrayal, he trusted her, he wouldn't forget, he couldn't forget, time would never dull this pain.

"Doctor..." she murmured, her throat suddenly tight. "Tell me."

Dr. Chakwas sent her a sympathetic glance. "We could do a live lobe transplant, assuming Kolyat passes all the preliminary testing. The risk of death to him would be under 2%, for Thane it would be closer to 8%. There would still be a risk of heart failure, and the Kepral's would eventually overtake the new lung. There would be some medical management required, nothing like what he undergoes at the moment. Thane could be back to active duty within a month."

"And Kolyat?"

"A week recovery, with the option to continue his work after two days, depending on his condition. Standard painkillers and antibiotics, nothing that would continue for more than a few months. There would be some concerns regarding his longevity, but statistically insignificant. He would not be advised to take up regular aerobic activity. Joining the armed forces would be out of the question."

Shepard nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. "How long would it give Thane?"

"Best case scenario would be five years, worst case would be six months. Most likely would be two to three years."

She looked at Kolyat, who gave a short nod. All their cards were on the table. He was willing. Just one word and she could save him, could ensure that he'd open his eyes again. Visions of him rotting on the ocean floor made an icy weight settle in her chest, a foetid taste invaded her mouth, her eyes involuntarily closing against the image that was too real. Thane's body, cold and alone, forever, in the water that had killed him, was too much for her to bear.

She met Kolyat's eyes, his fierce determination like a glowing thread of gold among all the darkness. Her only hope.

Barely realising what she was doing, she pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you..." She chanted it over and over, like a prayer whispered in his ear. Her only wish and he wanted to grant it. "Anything you want for this, Kolyat. Just name it and I'll make it happen, no questions asked."

Kolyat gave her a squeeze, stroked her hair with one hand, then smiled against her shoulder. This boy would make a great man one day, she knew it. They stood together, wrapped up in their shared grief and hope, not speaking, barely breathing. There was still hope, there was always hope. Thane had done great things, and this was his reward, the respect and admiration of his son, a second chance at life.

Shepard sniffed and looked up, turning her eyes to Chakwas.

"Do it."

* * *

_So now it seems that you push me away,  
Further than I've been, but not too far to stay,  
Here where I belong, where my soul can rest,  
I need time to heal, I need time to see,  
You've sucked me dry. _

"_Headcase" - Karnivool_


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

**Let The Enemy's Own Spy Sow Discord in the Enemy Camp**

**

* * *

**

"I can't believe you're making me do this."

"Doctor's orders. Shut it."

Shepard wheeled Kolyat through Omega. He had finally been cleared to go home and continue work under close monitoring from Dr. Abrams' staff. He didn't seem any worse for wear after the surgery – if anything he was more tenaciously misanthropic. She'd put it down before to teenage moodiness when she'd first met him, but it was becoming apparent that he would carry this trait into his adult years. She liked it; it reminded her of Wrex.

Thane had woken that morning. She'd watched from behind the glass, watched the confusion on his face, and when Dr. Chakwas explained what had happened, she'd watched the anger, the hurt that he'd been so deeply betrayed by someone he trusted. It had been cowardly to not talk to him then, more cowardly to walk away before he could notice her there. He hadn't asked to see her.

Shepard shook away the thoughts, lest the aching in her chest grow to unbearable levels. She had enough to keep her busy, not least was getting this grouchy little man home and out of her hair.

She hoped she'd still be able to see Kolyat when everything went to hell.

"This is very krogan, Shepard. I can see you're sympathetic to my plight here."

"Christ, even as an invalid you can't help but mouth off. You've got the admiral of the fleet playing nursemaid for you, no one cares about the damn wheelchair."

"Playing nursemaid?"

"Shut it." She didn't know if he was teasing her or if his translator didn't handle the phrase. If he used the words 'playing doctor' in any context she was going to smack him one.

"You'd think you'd be a little nicer to the man who saved your boyfriend's life," he said.

"You'd think. Oh, look, we're here. Thank fuck."

She opened the door to his dark home and wheeled him inside, finally allowing him to stand. He grimaced when she ushered him into his bedroom. He was still on moderate bedrest, and Bailey would be overseeing his logistical work from home, but he was obviously dying to get out and active again. A few strong words along the lines of "I'll kill you myself" had been offered at the suggestion of him disobeying his recovery orders, and Shepard felt that he had a healthy amount of fear for her that would make him behave.

Kolyat settled into the bed, pulling a blanket over himself to Shepard's dismay. It must have been forty Celsius; he couldn't possibly be cold.

"I've thought about what you said before the transplant."

Ah, she'd been wondering when he'd bring that up. "You have something in mind?"

He nodded. "I want to work for Aria directly."

Shepard was stunned silent for a moment, then a grin broke out that threatened to split her face in two. "Really?"

"What?" He scowled, obviously thinking she was mocking him.

She couldn't stop smiling. She'd half-expected him to ask for a harem of asari dancers. Working for Aria would put him in the top ranks of a powerful new world order, a few years under her would buy him any government position he wanted. Kolyat Krios was going to be a great man, she could feel it. And all for the bargain price of half a lung.

"That's... an unbelievably well-thought-out request. It'll take some time, I'll have to sweet talk Aria and Bailey."

"Alright."

He looked a little embarrassed now, having seen her reaction, and she rolled her eyes.

"You're going to go far, Kolyat. I should go. It's reporting day, my favourite of all the days."

He nodded, pursing his lips. "Shepard. I'm sorry about... everything."

"Please, don't apologise." She knew what he was trying to say, and it made her proud that he'd grown so much in just a few months. "I'm trying not to think about it."

"We can still see each other sometimes, right?"

She smiled. "I'd like that. See you later."

With a wave goodbye she made her way out, stepping over the general mess of the bachelor pad. Boys. She had promised herself that she'd see him through his recovery, but she didn't want that to be the last time she visited him. If he was going to be a permanent resident of Omega, she'd have ample opportunity to see him.

The administration offices loomed and she steeled herself. Reporting was still dark, with only the absolute necessities done electronically; all else was in person. Garrus joined her at the door, having returned from visiting his family.

Garrus looked good – happy. It must have been a relief to be able to be open with his family on what was happening. He greeted her with a nudge to the shoulder and a turian grin, a greeting in a light, happy voice. She hadn't seen him so well since she'd died, and maybe even before that. She told him about Kolyat's request as they walked and he laughed, commenting as she had that he was a smart kid, with big goals.

The security at administration was tight. There was no surrendering of weapons as at the peace conference, but the scans were thorough and the questioning more so. Testing of faculties that would be compromised by indoctrination took nearly ten aggravating minutes, and Shepard would have been pissed if she hadn't been the one who had insisted on the measures.

She answered a number of questions on human social conventions and identified flaws in pictures she was offered. Going through the seemingly endless procedure, she recalled the fairly humiliating time she had tried to get in while under the influence of Thane's drug; she had been detained for several hours, setting the whole station on full alert.

She winced at the memory and glared at the security officer.

"You're clean, admiral. Please continue."

"Thanks."

Everyone was already assembled in the meeting room, by now used to her being fashionably late. Or unfashionably late. It wasn't like the _Shepard_'s schedule was easy to predict. They stood around the room, different species, genders, ages and levels of irritation, all tense and ready to report.

Liara stood in one corner, officially an agent for the Shadow Broker. Lai was there to oversee proceedings and absorb the information. Aria, as usual, wasn't present, having sent Grizz in her place. Arrius was there. A few other familiar faces.

"Well, good afternoon. How is everyone today?" She looked over her datapad while the assembled delegates gave a half-hearted murmur. "That's great. All's quiet on the front for now, so we have some time to get everything out in the open. The armada is in good shape, operating at projected levels, and the Reapers are down to half their numbers. Things are going to slow down from here on out. They're getting harder to find and ambush, but everyone can rest assured that the front lines have no unexpected problems. Can I get a casualties report?"

A turian whose name always escaped her held up a datapad and cleared his throat. "There have been outlying strikes on Feros, Illium, Charhe, Mytos, Phobos and Lauhuan, casualties totalling 300,000. We've had heavy losses in the Horse Head Nebula. Two systems are down. We've isolated them, but we lost two colonies, asari and elcor. The Reaper relays are offline. Ten Reapers are waiting to be dealt with."

"Any eezo deposits in those systems?" Shepard asked.

"Nothing worth noting. The Reapers are probably running fairly low, but the drive cores from the colonies won't let them starve during our lifetime. The colonies had a combined population of nearly one million."

Shepard hissed in disgruntlement. Ten Reapers plus two lost colonies – one million civilians either indoctrinated or dead – equalled a massive problem. It would take a quarter of their fleet to take them down safely.

"Do we have any progress on determining if the indoctrination wears off?"

Loren Tarchis, her salarian head of research, spoke up. "Our oldest subject was indoctrinated by Sovereign approximately three years, four months ago. No signs of increased neural capacity or returning morality. All our therapies have remained ineffective. There's no reason to believe indoctrination can be broken."

No one in the room met each others' eyes. Shepard nodded solemnly. A million potential casualties in the Horse Head. They'd have to be dealt with.

"Alright, keep trying; liaise with Dr. Solus, if you need to. We all knew this was going to be ugly, people. How is the quarantine zone going?"

Damn, she knew this one. The asari who stepped forward ever so primly was familiar. Sha'ira? No, that was the consort. Diala. Lilara. Nope, nothing. A commando, definitely.

"We've made a semi-permanent base on Noveria. There were heavy casualties, so it's mostly empty there, and they already had an emergency hospital set up. The corporate offices are making sufficient dormitories, and there are routes open to keep supplies flowing without compromising safety. We have a current population of 100,000 possibly indoctrinated refugees, another 200,000 in outlying camps."

"Is the local law enforcement cooperating?"

The asari shrugged. "No, but we're the ones with guns."

"How many more can you take?"

"We're almost full right now, but we're repurposing the settlements on Kerotim. We should be able to take another half million within the fortnight, assuming Aria can spare us the supplies."

"She can spare it," Grizz said. "We're supplied to feed the entire fleet, so we have surplus now that some are dead. We'll reroute it to Kerotim."

Shiala! The asari's name was Shiala.

"Thank you, Shiala, Grizz." Shepard nodded to them. "Liara, anything to report?"

Liara stepped forward. Though she was present as a Broker agent and a Prothean expert, she'd only talk about the latter here. Any dissent among the War Board would be kept for Shepard's ears only. "There have been a few discoveries on the dig sites. The Broker suspects the Protheans had a method of fighting the Reapers that we haven't discovered yet, and we have some leads. Perhaps more importantly, we know the Protheans developed a device that could detect indoctrination. We have found such a device, but it has been badly damaged, and our teams are working on restoring it."

"ETA?" Shepard asked, before remembering that Liara's translator wouldn't appreciate that. "What's the time estimate?"

"I cannot say. The device is complex, and has multiple against tampering. I would recommend not relying on us completing the project before the end of the war."

"Alright. Anything else?"

Arrius looked up. "A quarian sabotage boat was rescued yesterday from Phobos airspace. There was one survivor, but he might have valuable information – he's the only one who's seen how Reapers act in a sensor minefield. I'd like to transfer him to the _Shepard_."

Lai jerked and gave a dismayed cry, shaking her head.

"Problem, Lai?" Shepard asked.

She bobbed from side to side, indecisive. "Maybe? Don't know."

Shepard weighed her options. "Keep him in quarantine on the rescue boat. We'll be rendez-vousing with the sabotage teams in three days; we can question him then. I'd like to keep the _Shepard_ free of potentially indoctrinated refugees."

Arrius nodded in deference.

She let everyone speak, assessing the state of affairs, charting out plans, only half-listening to some of the duller political speeches. Things were grim, that much she knew. People were dying. _Civilians_ were dying and she didn't have the numbers to stop it or even put up resistance. If a world was outside the herring network, if it wasn't flagged as a priority defence target, if there was no early warning, it was gone.

As they talked, she felt a surge of anger at the Council. She thought she'd put that betrayal behind her. If they had just listened, people would have been saved in the hundreds of thousands. They had dismissed her and her loyalists as fools and alarmists.

Yet while Shepard bemoaned their lack of resources, they wanted to work with what they had, and they were doing so beautifully.

Their tenacity, their determination, their ingenuity, she never thought for a second that she'd find anything so vibrant or inspiring out in the Terminus.

She stayed beyond after the meeting ended, lingering with Liara to discuss Shadow Broker matters. There were a few rumours floating around about them, a relatively unimportant asari always having 'private business' with the admiral. It was quite convenient once she'd convinced Thane there was nothing going on.

Shepard frowned.

"How are you holding up?" Liara asked once they were alone.

"This may come as a surprise, but I'm quite familiar with loss," Shepard said wryly. "I won't compromise the war effort."

"I'm not asking as a stakeholder."

Damn Liara, always looking so understanding and approachable. "This... uh... this kind of sucks. But he's alive. That's what matters."

"It's not all that matters."

"I really don't want to talk about this, T'Soni. It's not going to hurt less for it. Just tell me what's going on."

Liara nodded, giving that familiar look of pity that everyone seemed to wear since Thane had passed out. Shepard _hated_ that look. It was the same one everyone gave her after Mindoir, after Akuze.

"The volus have asked to join our cause. They can't provide any troops, but they have a number of farming colonies and more than a few workshops and ships available for our use, with your approval."

"I won't turn them away." Yes. What a win. They'd been after the fence-sitting volus for months.

"The War Board wants to start giving out medals. They'd wait until the end of the war, but..."

"But we don't know if we'll all be protein shakes by then. Fair enough. Governments are free to hand out medals as they like; what does that have to do with us? I can give a few recommendations, if that's what they're looking for."

Liara cocked her head. "Shepard, they wouldn't be handing out the medals as individual governments, they'd be doing it as the United Terminus. They want your recommendations on the creation of new medals for members of the United fleet. They already intend to give out the Shepherd's Crook for... let me see... 'most conspicuous bravery, or some daring or pre-eminent act of valour or self-sacrifice, or extreme devotion to duty in the presence of the enemy.'"

"Oh..." Shepard said. "Why would they...?"

"They'd like you to present that particular award in person, where possible."

"I... this is... do they have that kind of authority? Once the Board dissolves, those awards won't really be worth anything. Wouldn't it be more appropriate for individual governments to hand out their own awards?"

"Dissolve? Why would it dissolve?"

There was a long, awkward pause, both women looking at each other, trying to figure out where the miscommunication had occurred. Shepard frowned. "The War Board was only intended for, well, the war. I'd assumed they'd dissolve once the Reapers were dead."

Liara shook her head, bemused. "No? They've set up trading alliances, their navies are operating together. We're almost as powerful as the Council and much more far reaching. It would be madness to dissolve. The war is only the beginning. By the time it's over everyone will have been cooperating for more than a year, this is the strongest alliance in Terminus history."

"So what you're telling me here is that I've accidentally united the Terminus Systems."

"Yes, that does seem the be the situation."

The revelation should have been momentous, Shepard knew that, but her overworked brain wasn't quite catching onto the full implications. Good for them? She was too busy for politics, even when she was the catalyst or these were likely to be her employers in the near future. It certainly gave her title a lot more meaning.

"Does that mean I can start demanding a salary?" she asked.

Liara gave her a disapproving frown. "I don't think that's really important right now, Shepard."

"Sorry, big moment, got it. I'll sign off on the Crook, and I guess we should have a medal for those injured or killed in the line of duty – the Alliance does that. And one for bravery. Something for non-combatants, maybe." She frowned. Her medals had been lost somewhere along the way. "I want something for... unexpected acts? Skill?"

"What do you mean?"

Shepard shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "After Akuze they wanted to give me a medal, but it didn't fit into anything they had. It wasn't brave, since I was just defending myself; I han't managed to save anyone; and I didn't sacrifice myself. I just ended up with another _insigne des blessés_ for getting my face melted. Oh, don't give me that look, I know I don't talk about Akuze a lot."

Liara carefully schooled her face, eliminating the mixture of pity and horror. "I'm sorry. If you didn't do any of that, what did you do?"

The question was hesitant. It had been ten years and still people acted like she'd fall apart if she spoke about it. It was quite annoying. Not quite as annoying as Kaidan suggesting it had bought her a good posting as though losing a squad was some kind of currency, but still it grated on her.

"I killed three thresher maws. On foot. With a shotgun."

Liara stared at her for a few moments, delicate mouth agape. "Impossible"

"That's what they all said. I was there for three days, and there wasn't much else to do. It was either that or die."

This had clearly broken Liara out of her pity, and Shepard nearly smirked. It was all too common for people to assume she was some kind of damsel in distress when they learned of her past; sometimes it didn't hurt to remind them of why she was at the head of a galaxy-spanning armada. She was a damn surgeon with a shotgun, and no one should ever forget it. Losing everything she loved was becoming a kind of depressing routine, but one thing had always endured: her ability to kill anything that looked at her sideways. That was why she'd been chosen by God or fate or chance to take on the Reapers.

Liara had the good grace to look slightly ashamed. "I'll make sure that there's something put forward."

"Thanks."

"I think that's all. I should get back to working on the detector. It's been good seeing you again."

Shepard smiled, giving her a quick hug. "We'll catch up more when we're not so busy."

"Give everyone my love."

"I will. See you next time, Liara."

Shepard watched her friend gather up her things and leave the room. She sat down at the conference table and sighed.

* * *

_Cities come and cities go just like the old empires  
When all you do is change your clothes and call that versatile. _

"_I Don't Feel Like Dancing" - Scissor Sisters_


	21. Chapter 21

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 21**

**Besiege Wei to rescue Zhao **

**Part One**

**

* * *

**

Shepard stood outside the medbay looking in through the window, one hand wrapped around her waist, the other brandishing a cigarette. He was sleeping. Even in sleep his brow was furrowed, mouth twisted in a frown. She didn't know the cause of his sadness, but she could guess.

His son maimed, his lover treacherous. Did he feel like he'd failed Irikah? No doubt she'd charged him with protecting their son, and he'd tried. Tried to protect him from the family business. Tried to protect him from himself. The Reapers. The pain he'd lived with. The memories that would never fade. Shepard had undermined it all while he'd slept. She was sorry it had come to that, but she wasn't sorry that he was alive. She refused to be.

His eyes opened slowly, endless and dark, unfocussed, impenetrable. His expression didn't change. She took a long drag of her cigarette, trying to calm her nerves. Outside, everything was so quiet – suspiciously quiet. Not a single Reaper strike for more than forty eight hours. It gave her time to think – not a good thing. Lai and Operation: Herring were figuring out what the hell they were up to; all the admiral could do was watch and wait, hope for more information, stand outside the medbay and smoke.

Thane looked at her and she met his eyes, waiting for some kind of reaction. He gave her nothing, his devastated expression not even flickering. Maybe he wasn't as spiteful to her as she'd thought. Maybe he'd sunk as low as he could get, and even her presence wouldn't make it worse.

She crushed her cigarette beneath her heel. Time to face the music. She wouldn't apologise, hell no, but him dying had been God's tragedy; she had made it hers. This wasn't about being sorry, it was about being accountable.

He didn't look at her when she walked in, just stared blankly straight ahead, and she thought he might have become lost in solipsism before his eyes darted warily in her direction.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

She'd never seen this expression on his face before. Bitter. Angry.

"I can breathe again. I will be able to return to active duty soon."

"I couldn't kill you." She tried to keep her voice gentle, free of presumption, like his when he wanted to know about a delicate topic.

"I see that my faith was misplaced."

She took a deep breath, refusing to let that hurt. "Kolyat wanted to save you."

"You should not have let him," Thane snapped. "He's just a child."

She closed her eyes, her mind flooded with the image that had so terrified her – Thane's lifeless body, pale and gaunt, wrapped in seaweed, lowered into the sea, cold, alone. _Embrace the sea. Kalahira calls._ Fuck the sea and fuck Kalahira. She wouldn't be cruel enough to say that out loud. She stood by her decision, but she'd made it knowing that she'd deserve the full brunt of his anger.

"I'm glad you're alive," she said.

He didn't answer, eyes blazing, no sign of the adoration or devotion to which she'd become so accustomed. The assassin, not the lover, lay before her.

"_Shepard, we have an emergency_."

Shepard cursed under her breath. She was going to take this comm and fling it over a rainbow. Trying to hide her distraction, she opened the channel.

"This had better be good, Garrus."

"_A Reaper has just activated the herring relay at Palaven._"

"What?" she demanded. "How?"

"_The quarian that was rescued last week sabotaged the rescue ship and stole the IFF._"

Shepard felt all the blood drain from her face. "We need krogan teams down there right now."

"_They're all deployed, it'll take at least forty-five minutes to get one to Palaven._"

Shepard opened up her omnitool, working the channel settings as she spoke, directing her voice to the right people. "This is Admiral Shepard. All strike teams to ships immediately, we're going planetside. Flight Officer Langdon, get us to Palaven, double time. Joker, get the _Normandy _primed, prepare to engage in atmosphere. Garrus, we're working on the assumption that Palaven has fallen, I repeat, Palaven has fallen. Kilometre-wide suppression zone. Arrius, prepare to defend. Stick to the relay, we can't be sure they don't have more IFFs."

Her earpiece rang with confirmations and she was already checking her weapons. No time for her hardsuit; they needed to be on the ground five minutes ago and her barrier would have to do. She had a spare rocket launcher on the _Normandy_ and the rest of her arsenal had become part of her daywear in case of situations just like this.

She caught Thane's look of horror. She felt exactly the same way. Palaven couldn't fall. She wouldn't let it. Their argument momentarily forgotten, she gave him a curt nod.

"Don't worry, I won't let them take Palaven."

She turned and left, her mind already halfway to the _Normandy_. A horrible, nauseous shudder worked its way up her gut. Not just from the situation that had crashed down around her ears, not just from Thane's coldness or anger. She felt something sinking in her chest, like the outcome of this battle had already been decided and it wasn't in her favour.

The _Shepard_ was already moving, preparing to hit Palaven. Her strike teams weren't entirely equipped for a suppression task, but they'd have to hold until the krogans arrived. She took the walkway to the _Normandy_ as others raced for their ships around her, strapping on their guns, sucking down food to fuel biotics, packing spare heatsinks until their packs and pockets were full to bursting.

Shepard slid into the _Normandy_, staying in the airlock. They'd be pulling off a low atmosphere jump, no time for a shuttle drop.

Her crew crowded in, the airlock snapping shut just as Jack ducked underneath. Shepard hit the inner airlock as they disengaged, heading for the armoury. She still needed her heavy weapons. Arc projector, rocket launcher, or Cain. All three.

"This is Admiral Shepard," she said into her comm whilst arranging the hooks and straps to accommodate the additional weaponry. "Strike teams one and two, head north, half a kilometre from the Reaper landing zone. Three and four, take the south. Five and six, east. Seven and the _Normandy_ will go west. All ships are to act as a distraction force once the teams are dropped. Strike team nine, you'll take down the Reaper. Ten, hang back; if nine fails you're up next. Please confirm."

She managed to attach the Cain slung low over her hip as she received the last of the confirmations. A bowie knife against her thigh and she was set to go.

"_Entering the atmosphere, Admiral,_" Joker said. "_We'll be at drop height in thirty seconds._"

"Everyone ready?" she asked.

There were nods of assent, but her eyes were drawn to Garrus, who had turned a sickly grey colour, his facial markings so bright in contrast that he appeared almost skeletal. He looked like he was about to throw up. He caught her eying him and gave her a pleading look.

"A square kilometre of Palaven has forty thousand civilians."

Shepard nodded shortly, her lips pressed into a thin line, steeling her resolve. "That's why we're making sure they don't take every square kilometre. This is as small a suppression zone as I can allow. I'm so sorry, Garrus."

Not the biggest loss they'd suffered, not by a long shot, but the losses on the ground wouldn't be caused by the Reapers. They'd be from her strike forces – the crossfire wouldn't leave any survivors. They couldn't let people run; the Reaper could be carrying any number of indoctrinated turians, ready to wreak havoc on Palaven if they were let free.

Garrus nodded, refusing to meet her eye, rending Shepard worse than any knife. She flicked open her omnitool to get a sense of their battlefield and centre herself. The city's canals would give them good lines to hold; she marked them with her fingers and sent the information out to all strike teams seconds before the airlock opened and a wind howled through the small room.

Shepard led the charge, grabbing one of the drop thrusters and sliding down the hull of the _Normandy_, launched into the atmosphere. She could see the Reaper squatting like a parasite far above the city. Red lasers were already firing, fires burning, buildings crumbling, people running in crowds so big they could be seen from this height. There was no noise, just silence above the chaos, freezing cold and weightless.

"_Shepard, we can't engage,_" the head of strike team nine said in her ear. "_The Reaper's life signs are off the charts – there must be thousands of Collectors inside. We need it to empty out before we can even think of going in._"

Shepard couldn't answer, her voice would just have been whipped away by the wind. So that's why the Reapers had been silent for so long. They'd been preparing a full Collector force, using their one IFF to full effect. She only had eighty troops.

The ground sped toward her and she activated the thruster to slow her descent, aiming for the canal on the far west. The Reaper had a footprint like a football stadium, even this safe zone was painfully small. She could already see the screaming mobs bottlenecking at the bridges, husks at their heels. At least it wasn't a skyscraper area; the majority of the buildings were underground, the tallest only three or four storeys high.

Shepard hit the ground, rolled and tossed her thruster in one move, then pulled her shotgun off her back and took aim. Behind her she heard two dozen soldiers hit, one after the other. A hail of gunfire heralded their entrance.

"Biotics, now!" she cried, sending her own shockwave out.

The landscape was lit with blue, the ground exploding under the husks, tossing them to and fro; they grazed the edges of the civilian mob and caused panic. Their screams mixed with the gurgling shrieks of the husks and the shattering of glass and walls around them.

Another shockwave. Singularities pierced the air, growing, swirling, sweeping people up indiscriminately. Shepard put everything she could into the blast of biotics, barely waiting for her amps to cool before tearing through the streets anew. They were funnelling down a walkway alongside one of the major buildings, and each blast undermined the monolith's foundations.

The amps in Shepard's wrists were burning, metal molten in her veins, the skin above them crackling and searing. She pulled out her arc projector and started priming it.

"SMGs!"

Her order was answered immediately and energy pellets raining down upon the rapidly expanding crowd. The arc projector finally hummed to life and Shepard tried to aim where the husks were thickest, knowing this shot wouldn't be hitting them alone. She let fly and the lightning spread instantaneously, hitting husk and civilian alike, severing a line straight through to separate civilians from the enemy.

So many screams.

The shadow of the _Normandy_ fell over them and Shepard shielded her eyes as a thannix blast tore down the street, sending a rain of bricks and shrapnel over her unit.

"Get in front of the civilians!" She led them, taking advantage of the sudden break between friend and foe, storming over corpses and using her body as a shield, tackling one of the husks, dropping her arc projector and tearing the knife from her thigh to gut it. She whirled around, slicing through the neck of another while the civilians retreated. Soon her team surrounded her, Garrus at the forefront, every bit as fierce.

Jack and Samara tore a path through the encroaching horde, allowing the tiniest reprieve. Turians cowered behind ruined buildings, hiding in the rubble. Some tried to fight, some doing better than others. Even children were tearing at the husks with their tiny teeth, mouths dripping with green fluid.

"Arm the civilians!" Shepard commanded, then, into her radio, "All units, arm any civilians who wish to fight!"

She tossed her pistol to one man who seemed torn between fight and flight. She fumbled with her SMG, sending a new shockwave through the husks as they tried to regroup. The gun was given to a teenager with a grim nod.

"_Get down_!" Shepard shrieked as a praetorian hit the field.

Her squad was now in order, forming a slow advance, the civilians instinctively falling in. Everyone ducked behind cover as the devastating energy beam sawed through anything softer than steel. She pulled her rocket launcher from her back, watching Grunt and the three krogans from strike force seven do the same.

"Keep down," she ordered the teenager she had just armed, then ducked out of cover, firing as many rockets as she could before the creature turned its attention to her.

The praetorian's armour was eaten away quickly, and it rose into the air; Shepard braced, the shock slamming against her ribcage like a fist as it fell. Shields were up. This was too slow; the indoctrinated were escaping, the Collectors regrouping. She ducked out of cover again, trying to find something she could use, something explosive.

The building behind the praetorian creaked ominously. A few thousand tonnes of steel and mortar.

"Advance. All fire on the building at one o'clock."

Shepard grunted as her biotics burned to life again white hot, and the world lit up with the explosion of bullets and biotics, chiselling away at the mortar of the building in great chunks. The praetorian's beam sawed through two commandos and three civilian soldiers, not seeming to notice that none had been shooting at it.

With a groan of protest the building slumped and began to crumble. Everyone took cover as one, the burning sun of Palaven bathing them in light as the building collapsed, windows exploding outwards, steel plating battering the surroundings. It fell as if in slow motion, burying to praetorian under the rubble.

"_Geth, there are heretic geth on the field__!_" A voice roared in her ear. "_Count eight colossi, three dozen armatures at least!_"

"Keep cover, call in air support!"

They'd known there were still pockets of heretic geth; the Reapers had gone all out with this force.

Shepard led her team over the collapsed building, now numbering near fifty including the civilians. She needed more arms. Some had their own weapons, some were just picking up whatever looked good, lengths of pipe, large rocks, bearing razor sharp teeth, hunching down in preparation.

"Shepard, there are two AA guns approximately two hundred metres in either direction from our current location," Tali said. "Legion and I could bring them online."

"Do it. Tali, take Zaeed and Samara. Legion, take Jack and Grunt. Make this happen. _Cover!_"

Collector drones entered the field and gunfire opened, the shadow of the Reaper looking over them. Garrus led the snipers, taking them out before they could become possessed, warp and throw blasting drones backwards one by one.

"_Indoctrinated on the field!_"

"There are enemy turians on the field," Shepard relayed to the civilians. "Shoot to kill."

They passed a pocket of cowering turians, the fear and confusion palpable. A krogan began yanking them to their feet, handing them the fallen drones' guns. One refused to move despite the krogan's best efforts; the others accepted the guns, shaking and hesitant, and joined the ranks.

The ground before them exploded once more, the distraction team now in full force. Buildings crumbled and fell around them, destabilised by the air strikes and biotics, Jack cutting a swatch through the city to the AA gun she was tasked with finding.

Their force rose to a crest, bringing a straight run to the Reaper. The forces amassed against them were unimaginable, the towering forms of colossi and praetorians the only discernable figures. The strike team had been right – there were thousands. The ground surrounding the landing zone was scorched with no sign a building, a road, a living person had ever been there. She saw one of her ships make a low pass, no doubt dropping the strike team.

"Joker, what's the ETA on my krogans?"

"_Another twenty minutes, admiral._"

"Alright, everyone, we have to hold. We can't let them out into Palaven, this is too important. The krogans are coming to give us a chance at taking them down, but until then, we _have to hold_."

She was met with grim determination from her soldiers and some of the civilians. There were more than a few tears, a few sobs; nearly all of them had been wounded. She could still hear the screaming.

An all-too-familiar whine filled the air accompanied by the crackle of electricity, and the hair on the back of Shepard's neck stood on end. The colossi were charging their shots. No one needed to be told to take cover.

The air split with purple and blue and a low explosion of power shook the ground. Rubble shook loose, burying some. Shepard whipped her side to side to figure out where they were aiming. She broke cover, assessing. A smoking crater about 100 metres to their left.

The AA gun was the only thing left standing. Zaeed and Samara lay several metres away from it, blown back by the force of the hit, burned almost beyond recognition. Tali was still at the console, trying to work it with shaking hands, not looking at her fallen comrades.

"Tali!" Shepard cried.

"Almost there," she replied. The whine began to fill the air again. "Reconfiguring targetting parameters."

The colossi braced backwards, ready to spit.

"_Tali!_"

"Bringing power online..." Her hands were shaking so badly it was visible from even Shepard's distance. "Done!"

Tali took a running leap as the sky lit up, eight energy missiles slamming into the AA tower where she had been standing only seconds before. The quarian rolled as she hit the ground, plastering herself against a half-demolished wall.

The ground cannon hummed to life as it adjusted its position, whirring and grinding. Heavy missiles sung from its mouth, carving a path through husks and chipping away at the geths' heavy shielding.

Shepard took the reprieve, sending off a silent prayer for Zaeed and Samara. They must have taken the brunt of the hit to protect Tali. She ordered the krogans to collect their bodies; when there was time, they'd get a proper burial. Reapers could use corpses against her.

"_Krogans are incoming, admiral._"

Shepard grunted in confirmation, hoisting herself back to her feet and unstrapping the Cain from her hip. She only had one shot. People were still in cover, so she took her chance.

"We just need to hold."

She hit the trigger and fell back, not looking up as the deep blast sounded and the air flashed white.

* * *

_All this time spent in vain,  
Wasted years, wasted gain,  
All is lost, hope remains,  
And this war's not over._

"_Shattered" - Trading Yesterday_


	22. Chapter 22

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 22**

**Besiege Wei to Rescue Zhao **

**Part Two**

* * *

Rations day at the Citadel was always the same. The UTWB ship would dock, and people would already be swarming the area, ready to tear its hull apart. It was all the soldiers could do to prevent a riot. Everyone was on half rations – even biotics, , whose amps ate up everything they consumed, draining them into living dead. The rations ship came packed with dozens of krogans to prevent anyone from causing trouble. At first the Council had objected to armed enemy soldiers on the Citadel, but after a few people were trampled to death in the rations rush, the objections ceased.

Kaidan was feeling like his own ghost. Bare scraps of food, limited water, and, every other soldier on the station, an indefinite posting as riot control. Lists of casualties were being transmitted daily, so long and impossible to comprehend that only half were ever released publically. It felt like they were under siege, with entire planets – entire systems and clusters – were being written off outside the Citadel.

He didn't want to report in at the embassy. Hell, he barely wanted to be alive, watching people starve, grieve over friends and family on the outside. Basic duty was exhausting, both physically and emotionally. He knew Shepard held the Council responsible – he was starting to feel the same way.

Anderson's office was dark; the artificial night was setting in and the councillor hadn't bothered to turn on the lights. The man had aged ten years in the past month, grey hair streaking through black, every wrinkle and crack on his face deepened. He sat at his desk staring at a picture, a glass of wine in hand.

"Sir?" He had the feeling that he was intruding.

Anderson didn't answer for a long moment, his frown so deep it seemed permanently etched onto his face. When he spoke his voice was little more than a rasp.

"You ever see a sixteen-year-old girl covered in blood, Alenko?"

"Sir?" Kaidan repeated.

Anderson gestured to the chair in front of his desk and set the picture back in its place, then poured another glass of wine, setting it before the commander. "Here."

"I'm on duty, sir."

Anderson laughed, long and bitter. "Drink the wine, Alenko. Might be the last you ever see. I found her, you know. On Mindoir. My unit was sent in for search and rescue. We didn't think we'd find many survivors. She was covered in blood – batarian, human, too – like she'd taken a bath in it. She had her daddy's shotgun, a chip on her shoulder, and not much else."

Kaidan shifted, uncomfortable. He sipped the wine to be polite, knowing it would go straight to his head since he had barely eaten. Anderson looked like he was into his second bottle. "You were on Mindoir, sir?"

"We found a few that had hidden. There were a couple of bunkers in the town. Not her, though, she didn't hide. When we found her... just a kid... she'd been beaten, raped, stabbed, shot, and she was still standing. She still had the control chip sticking halfway out of her neck; she'd killed the ones who tried to do it."

Kaidan felt his insides twist into knots. He couldn't imagine Shepard ever being on the losing side of a fight, even as a kid. She'd never told him that.

Anderson continued, "She was like a damn skittish horse. Nearly killed the first of my men who tried to sedate her. Untrained biotics, dangerous, didn't even have amps. I managed to talk her down enough to give her the pill. Told her she'd wake up someplace warm. Eddie Shepard's little girl never went down without a fight."

"You knew her father?"

"Everyone knew him. He was a cattle baron or something of the like. Fancied himself a pioneer, gave everyone hell until they opened up Mindoir for colonisation. Major political player in the unions and traders. Didn't like to be told what to do. Turned out that was what killed him." Anderson took a long drink of his wine. "And if it hadn't, we'd all be dead right now. Or worse. A Reaper landed on Palaven a few hours ago."

Kaidan jerked back. "What?"

"That's classified. Shepard's forces are already on the ground. Heavy casualties."

"Is she..?"

"I don't know. The Palaven government is trying to provide them support, but there's catastrophic damage, nuclear blasts, civilians fighting, air raids. The most they can do is secure the city against the indoctrinated."

Kaidan was stunned. If Palaven was no longer secure, it was lost. The indoctrinated would overrun the galaxy. The Citadel could never be reopened.

Anderson raised his glass, and the wine was suddenly looking very appealing.

"Here's to Shepard's health."

Shepard dove into a bunker, and slammed the door shut behind her, hearing the hail of bullets that followed her. The Collector drones nearly had her that time. She'd taken a burst of shrapnel to the face, leaving long, jagged lines across her eye and lips, superficial wounds, but they stung like hell. Her left knee was about ready to give out; a wall had collapsed on it some hours before.

She accepted a care kit from Mordin with breathless thanks, first smearing medigel along her wounds to soothe the pain, then gulping down the water and inhaling the protein bar. Her biotics were burning through calories faster than she could consume them. She had discarded all her weapons save her shotgun and knife, either given to civilians or tossed when they ran out of heatsinks with no hope of finding more.

Shepard stumbled away from the door, rubbing her sore knee, and took a headcount. Samara and Zaeed lay in the corner, their bodies covered by ragged white sheets. Tali's exosuit was punctured and she was confined to their make-shift base. Kasumi's arm had broken again, the bone not properly healed the first time. Jacob had suffered a bad shot to the eye, the wound now closed over with medigel; there was no hope of recovering it on the battlefield. Other than that, a few superficial wounds, nothing that would keep people out of action.

Her eyes fell to Garrus, slumped against the far wall. He clutched his sniper rifle between his legs, looking like a child with a security blanket. Deep tracks ran down his face, and there was something dead in his eyes. He looked more husk than person.

"Garrus?" She squatted next to him, trying to get him to meet her eyes. "What happened?"

His mouth worked, no sound coming out. She offered him the bottle of water and he drank deeply.

"There were... indoctrinated..." He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "Children, Shepard. Four, five years old. A dozen of them. They were trying to take apart the wiring of the AA tower."

"Oh, God, Garrus."

She knelt between his knees and threw her arms around him. He responded with bone-crushing force, a shuddering sob escaping him. She held him tightly, knowing there was nothing she could say. It would never be okay. None of them would ever forget this.

Garrus had been the only one faced with taken down children. The teenager who had accepted her SMG had returned to her a husk, still brandishing the weapon. The Collectors had set up spikes around the perimeter, and even though the Reaper was long dead, they still fought as if determined to claim this planet for their own. The suppression zone had widened to a two-kilometre radius, the organic forces pushed back.

"What time is it?" he asked.

Shepard was surprised by the question; it seemed a strange segue. She checked her omni-tool. "0400, an hour till sunrise."

Garrus chuckled humourlessly and released her, reached into his armour, and pulled out a small package wrapped in brown paper. "I'd sort of hoped to do this without a thousand Collectors at the door, but... happy birthday, Shepard."

Her eyes widened as he held out the package. She'd forgotten. She didn't even know how old she was turning today – thirty-something. She took the packet with trembling hands. "What is it?"

"A pony."

She couldn't help letting out a choking laugh as her eyes burned with tears. Her fingers wouldn't cooperate as she tried unwrapping delicately, she ended up tearing it open with fumbling hands. A small bottle rested in her palm. Vanilla shower gel. Her favourite.

"How did you know?"

Garrus gave a wry laugh. "Liara."

A whimper of a giggle escaped her lips and she pressed her forehead to his, holding him tightly. An explosion rocked the bunker from outside, sending a rain of plaster down over the room, but she barely noticed.

"Thank you. We'll get out of here and I can stop smelling like lavender."

"You do smell pretty bad."

"I know."

She let herself have just a few more moments of reprieve in his arms, but she couldn't remain. There were enemies literally banging down the door, and she had to get back out. She slipped the bottle into her now empty ammo pack. God help her, but she was going to survive this, if only for a shower that didn't make her sneeze. She'd live to see thirty-something-plus-one.

She drew from Garrus' arms, refilled her heatsinks as much as she could, and headed for the door. She closed her eyes, her mind swimming with Thane's prayers to Amonkira._ May my aim be true, my feet swift. Should the worst come to pass, grant me forgiveness._ Without further hesitation she opened the door, sending out a shockwave to disorient the Collectors before her.

The shockwave tossed a few aside and hit the krogans on the far side of them. It would take more than that to dislodge a krogan.

The area hadn't been secured yet, but it was looking better. The krogans held the line outside the dead Reaper, hacking through the forces still gathered there, and the _Shepard_ strike teams were mopping up the leftovers, anything that managed to slip through. The Palaven military weren't letting anything in or out of the city. There was panic in the safe zones and rioting in the streets; she'd had to send a reinforcing krogan force to help contain the city.

The krogans took care of the drones while they were in disarray from the shockwave. The real problem was the husks. Until the krogans broke through to the inner circles of the Collectors and disabled their techs, it would all be in vain. With a few spikes and so many bodies, they had a virtually infinite supply;. one fell to be replaced by ten.

Shepard nodded to the krogans and continued her patrol. The enemy had started hiding in bunkers and buildings, both stealth units hoping to be missed during cleanout and the indoctrinated, masquerading as refugees.

She moved through the buildings chewing through husks, trying not to waste ammo. She found a pocket of refugees huddled in a nearby building. They looked up at her through bleary eyes, she couldn't tell if it was fear and exhaustion or the madness of indoctrination. She sealed the door and broke the console, then broke off a piece of plaster and marked the door with '_R_'. The refugees could be sorted out later, it wasn't her job to do so now.

The far AA gun considered her for a moment before letting her pass. She saw a dozen tiny corpses littering the ground around it, a perfect shot between the eyes of each. She was just behind the krogan line, and the husks were threatening to overwhelm them. One of the krogans had picked up the arc projector she had abandoned in the first charge, which was helping turn the tide.

A few geth stumbled through, hardly more than skeletons and she toppled them with a warp, their feet lifted off the ground with its force. She generally stayed away from the krogan line – it was best not to get in their way, especially when they were expecting something to sneak up behind them. They hadn't been accustomed to this kind of fighting, but were now experienced in urban warfare. They did well. Wrex would get a bloody medal for this.

After a long patrol of taking down husks and drones, she rested against a wall, certain as she could be that she was alone. A hand down her face told her that her wounds were going to scar. That was alright, her face had been alarmingly clean since Lazarus. Her knee was giving her more trouble. She didn't think the bone was broken, but perhaps she'd torn a muscle; either way it wasn't fun to walk around.

Her fucking birthday. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten. She couldn't believe Garrus remembered. No doubt Liara had something planned, something that wouldn't happen now thanks to a single indoctrinated quarian. They'd have to be more careful. It was easy to pity the indoctrinated, to want to protect them, but this is what would happen. The dead were uncountable; Palaven would forever carry the scar. She didn't know how the turians would spin it later. Maybe she'd be hailed a hero for her quick, effective strike; maybe she'd be held accountable for the number of civilian dead and the rift between turian and human would grow.

The area was almost ready to be handed over to the krogans. Just a few more buildings and she could head back. There were other places in the galaxy needing her attention.

She opened a door and glanced inside, spying a a fridge on the far wall. They were running low on supplies, so she ducked in.

A whir of gears behind her and she whipped around. In the corner, nearly unnoticeable, was an armature in hibernation. It began to wake up at her prescence, and she froze in a brief moment of panic . Trapped in a small space with an armature was not a desirable position.

The geth stared back at her, each considering the other, and then they reacted as one. She primed her shotgun, the armature arched back.

She shouldn't have stepped through the door; it was too small with no cover. Her only chance was to take this monster down before it could build a shot. The armature's gears whined in protest as her biotics pulled at its legs, making it scramble like an angry spider off-balance.

Its mouth glowed, energy building. Shepard brought her shotgun to bear and sent energy pellets ricochetting inside its chassis, tearing at its wiring and valves.

The armature went down with a deafening crash, but its missile had already fired. Her biotic barrier surrounded her without a conscious thought. Everything she had, everything her L5s could muster, was defending her against the flash of light.

It must have been over in an instant, the battle decided in the space of a heartbeat, but time seemed to slow as the missile sheared away at her defenses, as it grew smaller but did not stop. From the size of her fist it was torn down to the size of a fingernail, breaking through her barrier at an achingly slow pace, then her suit's shield, until finally it her completely.

Shepard didn't feel any pain. She felt her back hit the wall as she was blown off her feet, but that was hard and cold. She felt the wetness on her hands as she grasped her gut. There was no numbness, just a void where she knew agony should be. Her legs wouldn't respond to her commands. She just felt drained, like her very life was leaking out of the gaping wound in her stomach.

Her mind raced. She was too far away from the base to do any good. Even if they already knew what had happened, there'd be no way they could reach her in time. The krogans had no medics. The nearest strike team was too far. She'd used up the last of her medigel on her face. Stupid, vain.

A feeling of calm washed over her. She opened up her omni-tool, sending out a video call.

The only face she wanted to see filled her tunnelling vision.

"Thane."

"Shepard?" He was confused; she supposed it would be confusing. She was already starting to feel light headed from blood loss.

"I had to see you."

"Shepard, what happened?" There was a note of panic in his voice, and she knew that he had already worked it out.

"I got a little too close to an armature. I guess I'm going to die here." Her breathing was coming up short, her lungs starting to fail her.

"No, get to your team. Where are you?"

"Too far away," she panted. "It's alright. I'm not afraid. I just need you to listen. I know you're angry right now, but Garrus is going to need you. He'll be the new captain of the _Normandy_, and I need you to make him listen like you've always made me listen. If you let him, he'll get bogged down in his 'victory at any cost' ideas. I need you to not let that happen. He's a good man, he doesn't need to sacrifice his soul to win this."

"Shepard, stop. You aren't going to die there. Call for help."

He was so handsome, and his voice so beautiful. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall, trying to keep breathing for just a little longer.

"I'm sorry for what I did. I know you won't forgive me, but I did it for Kolyat as much as you. I would have given both my lungs if it saved my father. I wish it could have worked out differently." Through the window she saw the sun break over the horizon, bathing her with light. She smiled. "I don't have a right to ask you this, but please don't let anyone get my body this time. Fire it into a star or something. I don't want to be rebuilt again."

"Siha..." He was begging, pleading with her to stay alive, and she wished she could comply, but that wasn't an option.

"S'alright." She was slurring now. She hoped his translator would convey her words. "Doesn't hurt. Jus' look after Grunt an' Garrus. Beat these fuckers for me. Love you."

He said something else, but she couldn't make it out. She blinked to clear her fading vision, but it was no good. It was alright. She had borrowed time, and wouldn't anymore. Thane would take care of her people.

Shepard closed her eyes and let sleep claim her.

* * *

_There's a light, there's the sun,  
Taking all the shattered ones,  
To the place we belong._

"_Shattered" - Trading Yesterday_


	23. Chapter 23

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 23**

**Inflict Injury on Oneself to Win the Enemy's Trust**

* * *

_An ocean of golden yellow swamped her vision, surrounded her, and her feet hit the ground. Fields of canola stretched as far as the eye could see. It was almost harvest season. The sky darkened; she knew what was coming._

_Night overtook the world, and she looked up in wonder. There were no more stalks brushing her knees, crusted salt overtaking the fields. She could see the curvature of the planet on the horizon. Flat salt planes went on forever. The ground exploded, casting her to the sky._

_The stars were bright, endless, no atmosphere to distort their brilliance. Fire raged behind her, but it couldn't touch her. The sky was empty, no place to run, no place to hide, even if she had the faculty. _

Shepard gasped, waking and sitting up with a jerk to escape the emptiness. Her terror faded as she felt a sharp pain in her gut. The air rushed from her lungs and spots burst before her eyes. She froze, allowing the sudden explosion of sensations dull until she could figure out what was happening.

This wasn't right. She'd died back on Palaven, she shouldn't be in the _Shepard_'s infirmary. The notion that Thane had let Cerberus take her again as revenge briefly crossed her mind, but she dismissed it, feeling guilty for even thinking it. She blinked away the last of the sleep haze and assessed her situation.

The pain having mostly faded, Shepard lifted up her hospital gown and winced. Not pretty. A circular burn scar encompassed her whole belly, a pathetic little dimple where her bellybutton used to be. Good thing she wasn't planning on getting laid anytime soon – or ever again. Yuck. She jumped at the sound of a groan, and looked up to see Garrus rousing from sleep in the chair beside her bed. He looked like he'd been there for hours, still caked in blood from battle.

"Shepard?" he asked. "You're awake."

"No shit, Sherlock." She winced as a pain shot through her. If dying hadn't been painful, why should waking up be so? "How long have you been there? What in hell happened? What happened to Palaven?"

"Palaven is safe, in krogan hands. And two days," he groaned, sitting up and stretching like a cat. "Your fanbot was tailing you. He found you passed out and managed to call in a pickup fast enough to get a blood transfusion. You scared the hell out of us, Shepard."

"Just keeping you on your toes."

"Very funny." He hit a switch on his visor. "Shepard's awake, everyone."

She winced again as the pain continued. "Any chance I could get a heaping dose of morphine?"

"Coming up, Admiral." Dr. Chakwas emerged from the woodwork and hit a few buttons on her monitor. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got shot point-blank by an armature. I'm fine. A little—" Her voice choked off as the morphine flooded her system, intensifying the pain bit by bit until she felt paralysed before killing it, leaving her floating and slightly nauseous. "Ah…. That's the stuff."

She lay back on the bed, tired again. Lifting her arms she marvelled at the lack of pain, her numbed body suddenly fascinating.

"You gave us quite a nasty scare, Shepard," Chakwas said. "Another few minutes and we wouldn't have been able to save you."

"My tummy's funny," Shepard replied, poking at the wound.

"We can deal with the scarring later. For now it's important that you don't move too much."

"I could really go some waffles. Do we have any waffles?" She tugged at Garrus' hand to get his attention.

"I'll go talk to Gardner, I'm sure he can make some up."

Shepard grinned then was distracted by the door opening. She let out a delighted cry at seeing Legion and Grunt. Neither smiled, not being capable, but she could feel the relief. If geth could blush she would swear Legion was doing so, his face plates expanding in a flustered manner.

"Legion! Grunt!" she cried. "Grunt, Legion saved me, did you hear?"

"Yes, Battlemaster," Grunt said. He clasped her hand and she squeezed tightly. "You survived a blow that would kill a krogan."

"You should know by now that I'm invincible." His hand was warm and scaly. She had to fight to urge to rub her face against it.

"Shepard-Commander," Legion said. "You were not terminated."

"Thank you, Legion, I'm feeling much better. I should be glad to have such a faithful stalker." She realised how inappropriate that sounded and found herself giggling. Stalker was the wrong word. Loyalist? Follower? No.

More people came to see her, laughing at her state, shedding tears with her for Zaeed and Samara. Garrus brought her waffles and she squealed with delight. She traded jabs with Jack, compared scars with Jacob and hugged Tali until she was blue in the face. It was like a little party in the infirmary, only she was the only one inebriated.

The day whittled away. The Council tried to get through, and this time no one objected to her rejecting the call. Dr. Chakwas tried twice to settle them all down, with limited success. Some more birthday gifts were passed around. A new pistol, one of her old medals, a bunch of flowers, a shiny knife to replace the one she lost on Palaven. A sinking feeling settled in her stomach after a few hours around her second dose of morphine. There was one notably absent from their impromptu gathering.

It took her a lot more time to get up the courage to ask, in whispered tones to Garrus, "Where's Thane?"

"I don't know," he said. "He came to see you after the surgery, but I haven't seen him since."

She didn't ask again, but her stomach fell. She felt like an idiot for conveying her dying message to someone who wouldn't care and then living. She should have called Grunt instead, or Garrus. Should have just slept it off – that seemed to work out alright for her. She wrapped her arms around her wrecked waist and tried to smile for everyone. They needed to know that she was holding together in more ways than one.

She turned her concentration back to her family around her. Grunt had hoisted Jack onto his shoulders, recreating their victory dance when Palaven was declared secure. It turned out that Jacob could dance, too, whipping Miranda around like a doll. It was a great thing to witness her crew so relaxed and happy despite the state of things. None of them had truly believed they could defend a planet like Palaven –if there had been more than one Reaper they might have been right – but having won the battle was a huge boost to morale despite the losses.

As dinner rolled around she was abandoned in favour of the mess hall, and she sighed after they had left, one by one. She hit the morphine button again; her abdomen was spasming wildly, and she didn't really need any more pain. She'd suffered enough in the last week. A little sleep wouldn't hurt her.

The door opened once more and her heart did a backflip. Thane stood in the doorway, hands behind his back, head bowed in deference.

"Thane..."

"Shepard." He approached her slowly, as if she might bite. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Come to take advantage of my intoxicated state again?"

She had meant it as a joke, but he nodded solemnly, thoughtful. Dark eyes assessed her, seemingly oblivious to the way he was making her heart pound and her stomach flip.

"How are you feeling?"

She couldn't tell if the question was out of concern or politeness, so she shrugged. "I'm fine as long as the morphine keeps coming. Lost a lot of blood but no permanent damage."

He nodded again. There was clearly something on his mind, his eyes focussed on the distance, his shoulders hunched. He was a man with a problem, and she was afraid she was it.

"What do you plan to do after this war is over?" His voice was deep and even, tentative.

"I... don't know," she said, surprised. She hadn't thought that far ahead. "I suppose the War Board will still need admirals."

"You don't think about going back to the Alliance? Back to your Lieutenant?"

"Kaidan?" she asked. "No? Should I?"

She knew that it was inappropriate for him to be asking these questions, but she was too sedated and surprised to work up any real indignation, which was probably why he was taking the opportunity to ask. How long had he been thinking these things?

"It is obvious that you cared a great deal for him."

"I loved him. He loved... a Spectre."

"Are human affections so fleeting?"

She growled deep in her throat. "Are these questions or accusations?"

He closed his eyes, bowing his head and she knew he was about to apologise. "Forgive me. You have... given me a lot to think about. It surprised me that at the moment of death I would be the one you looked to. I would have thought that Grunt, or perhaps Garrus, would get the honour of your final moments."

"Why would you think that?" she asked, confused and more than a little hurt.

"_She smiles at me, serene, golden light spills over her. Blood drips down her face, crimson on ivory. Her words are full of grace. Light fades from her eyes, she lies back as if to sleep._" Thane gasped, jerking out of the memory.

She reached up and brushed a tear from his eye, cupping his face with her hand. He laid his fingers over hers, holding her hand in place, clinging to it as if he needed proof that she was still alive. Her indignation faded to a different kind of hurt.

"I'm still here," she murmured.

"I had... never faced the prospect of outliving you. You are indomitable. Your refusal to accept defeat is what makes you a great leader and our only chance of survival."

His meaning dawned on her slowly and a dozen puzzle pieces clicked together in her murky mind. "You thought I was too proud to let you die."

"I have never... I do not know how humans form bonds. You are short-lived and instinctive. You are protective of everything you lay claim to, aggressively so. I hadn't thought that you could care for me as I do for you."

"Don't say that." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Don't you dare."

"Perhaps I was too quick to leave you."

"I should have respected what you wanted, I know that. I did it knowing there would be consequences. You don't have to forgive me; I never expected you to."

He almost smiled. "Yet I cannot hold a grudge against you, siha. I would have gone against your wishes to save you on Palaven. I... would have killed to save you. Consciously and of my own will."

She twisted her hand around to grab his fingers and draw him closer. He placed a reverent kiss on her knuckles and sat in the chair beside her bed, allowing them to hold hands, not ready for more just yet. He was trying to say that he'd take the transplant. In his enigmatic, drell way he was saying that she was enough to live for and although his words were vague the sentiment was enough to choke her up.

If she brought attention to it now, she'd just make him feel put upon. Shepard instead wracked her brain for a change of subject. They could air everything later.

"It's my birthday, you know," she said through dry lips, her mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool. "Or it was."

"I know. I did have something for you."

"You did?"

"I left it with Kolyat, I didn't think I would live to see this day."

She chose to ignore the last part of his remark. "What is it?"

"A pony."

Shepard burst out laughing, the joke so unexpected from him that her morphine-induced giggles became uncontrollable. "You've been hanging out with Garrus too long. Tell me, I want to know."

"I believe humans are supposed to be surprised when they receive gifts. I will see Kolyat on our next pass by Omega."

"He's..." She wet her lips. How much did he know? "He's working for Aria now. You should be so proud of him, Thane. He managed to talk me out of... No one talks me out of anything. He's going to be a great man. Little bastard, too."

"I am proud of him. Do I have you to thank for his new position?"

Shepard blushed. "He saved your life. It was the least I could do. Can I... can I kiss you?"

His lips were hypnotic to her, soft, wet, begging to be kissed. Tugged up in a half smile. Parted oh-so slightly. His fingers wound through her hair and he pressed his nose against hers, breathing her in. She had to lean in an upsetting angle to reach him, but she didn't care – the drugs kept her from feeling the pain.

He kissed her long and sweet, leaving her head spinning and knees shaking. She squeezed his hand, the floating sensation of the drugs turning into soaring. She thought she might just drift away into the sky if he wasn't keeping her grounded.

"No mixing medicine, children," Dr. Chakwas' scolding voice rang out, shocking them both out of the moment.

Thane frowned against her lips and released her, much to her dismay. Were she of a more sober mindset she might have thought that drell poison wouldn't mix well with morphine, but for the moment she was just upset that her lover wasn't allowed to kiss her. He didn't look any happier with the situation, and the longing in his eyes lit a fire deep in her belly that had nothing to do with her wounds. He wanted more. She wanted to give it to him. Dr. Chakwas was the only thing keeping her from simply hauling him onto the bed.

He gave a rueful smile and ran his thumb over her lips, tugging at the new scar. She'd forgotten about her face, and the memory brought with it a bashfulness she wasn't accustomed to. _Some people find scars attractive, most of those people are krogan_...

"Not as pretty as I used to be," she murmured, averting her eyes.

"Sihas should carry scars from their battles. Your ferocity is more beautiful than your face could ever be."

Shepard closed her eyes and nuzzled into his palm, letting him soothe her. Thane would never see her as ugly, no matter how scarred she became.

"Thane?"

"Yes, siha?"

"Why were you asking about the future before?"

He smiled, an enigmatic smile. "So that when you are sober I can ask you to marry me."

* * *

_Another pale moon,_

_Shines like high noon,_

_Midnight never felt so cold alone._

"_Sunshine" - All American Rejects_


	24. Chapter 24

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 24**

**Entice the Tiger to Leave Its Mountain Lair**

* * *

The Citadel felt... grey. Like all the colour had been sucked out of it.

People didn't smile or laugh, most of them didn't even conduct business anymore. Shops were empty, clubs and bars lifeless. Fuel supplies dwindled, cutting down almost all of the traffic. It sometimes took a bribe just to get a taxi.

The Council had tried their best, but after four months of isolation a vote of no confidence seemed likely. Not that there was anything anyone could do at this point. Surrounding solar systems had been almost entirely stripped, trying to support a population of tens of millions on the few barely terrestrial worlds. Even Bekenstein was suffering, the lockdown too tight for their influence to mean anything. After Palaven no one was taking any chances.

So when the relay in the Presidium lit up, people barely even looked up. A single flash of colour on the grey station, it meant nothing. The best it could bring would be outside news, and even that was more often grim than not.

Kaidan was unofficially in charge of 'Shepard problems', which had a long official title that was never used, because it was all off the record. No one was under the illusion that the activation of the conduit was anything other than a Shepard Problem.

A group of colourful, healthy people spilled out of the shuttle that had burst into the small space. Liara T'Soni emerged, standing tall and taking charge immediately, her people fanning out, scanning and poking and prodding.

Kaidan approached the site with his men, and Liara immediately swept him into a hug.

"Kaidan! Shepard said you'd be the one to greet me."

"Hi, Liara." He was too tired to point out that she wasn't allowed to just park in the middle of the Presidium. There was nothing he could do or say that would change what she was planning to do. Not that he'd want to. All he could do was ask for a report, and send it back to Anderson.

"I'm sorry to intrude, we would have taken the outer relay and reported in, but we didn't have the time. Here." She pulled a bag out of the shuttle and handed it to him. He went to open it but her hands clamped down over his, her voice lowering to a whisper. "Not here. It's food, and some medicine to help with your migraines. A gift from Shepard."

Kaidan nodded numbly and pulled the satchel over his shoulder. Small mercies. "Thanks. What should I tell the Council?"

"We've broken the main Reaper line, they now number just over four hundred. We're doing a full investigation of Ilos and other major Prothean ruins, we think they may have been developing something to fight the Reapers, but it was never used if they finished it. It's likely that anything they worked on is stored somewhere here, we may be on the station for a few days. Also, we need a Keeper."

"You can't just take Keepers, they explode." The words came out a little gruffer than he'd meant.

She smiled, an almost pitying look, and he supposed he didn't exactly look his best. "Leave it to us, Kaidan. Go have some food and a rest, we're going to do everything we can to get the Citadel reopened soon."

He nodded. "I'll leave some men with you, let them know if you need anything."

"We will. Thank you."

Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to block out the ache that was building. The noise didn't help, Exodus was crowded, the latest casualty lists had just been released and the wailing seemed to be at the exact frequency of her headache. She reminded herself that she was lucky, at least she was the one with the headache, not the dead family.

It didn't escape her that as a woman recently engaged she should be happy, floating, drifting through life on a wave of euphoria. Delivering the news of Samara's death to her daughters personally had fairly killed that. The first losses from the _Normandy_ crew had hit everyone hard. Defending Palaven was good for morale, but their lost friends had left a gaping void that no one could escape. They weren't invulnerable.

Samara's daughters had been gracious and serene, their grief carried out with the traditional asari dignity. This hadn't been unexpected. That made it so much worse. At least they had all seen each other one more time. After Palaven all the refugees had become keenly aware of their privileged position, and the girls had been only grateful to her for her sanctuary and personal delivery of the news.

And if none of that killed her mood then Liara most certainly would. Somehow everything Shepard did was the UTWB's business, and what she had thought would be a private elopement with only her crew to witness was apparently now a state affair, morale building, moment of happiness in the dark... It had been a very convincing speech which Shepard had immediately forgotten. She just wanted a priest and some kind of ring and to tell Thane that she was going to spend the rest of her life with him. That didn't sound unreasonable to her.

"Shepard!" Jack's voice brought her out of her reverie.

The younger woman was pacing, radiating anxiety. Shepard approached her but kept a safe distance. An agitated Jack was likely to cause injury without intention. Blue bursts rippled over her, jumping and sweeping across her skin.

"Are you doing okay?" Shepard asked.

"Yeah." Jack sniffed, rolled her shoulders. "Can we just get this over with?"

"Jack, stop pacing. It's going to be fine."

"Right, sure, whatever."

Shepard paused. "It's not going to be alright if you blow them up with uncontrolled biotics."

Jack rounded on her, all fiery eyes and bursting blue. "I'd like to see you keep calm when this shit is going down."

"I'm going in, try to relax. You don't want to kill them."

Jack's only response was to crack her neck and start pacing again. Shepard couldn't blame her. This had to be a stressful day. She didn't know what had brought on Jack's change of heart on this topic, but she'd promised her that whatever she needed she could have, after being in Cerberus' service Shepard owed their victims every possible concession.

She buzzed the door outside which Jack paced. It took a few moments for the door to open, the wide eyes of Mrs. Leung, so similar to Jack's, stared up at her. The door opened the whole way and Shepard tried a reassuring smile.

"Admiral Shepard. What can I do for you?"

"May I come in, Mrs. Leung? There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Is it... Is something wrong?" She stepped out of the way, letting Shepard past and into the small home. The same kind of prefab they'd found Morinth's victim living in.

"No, nothing's wrong. Is your husband home? This is something he'll want to hear as well."

"No, he's out at the market."

Shepard pursed her lips. She would have liked to have Mr. Leung's calming influence in this situation, but if she waited any longer, Jack would literally explode, or at least everything around her would. "Well I guess I'll just speak with you."

"Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you." No hot fluids when Jack was upset. She'd learned that one the hard way. "Please, let's sit."

The two women situated themselves on the couches, Shepard leaning back to support her still healing abdomen, Mrs. Leung perched on the edge of her seat as if she was about to be attacked at any moment.

"Is this something that John should be hearing? I could call him back."

"I really don't think we have the time. This is probably a painful subject for you, Mrs. Leung, but you had a daughter once. She died when she was a baby."

The older woman nodded gravely. "Carol."

Shepard bit her lip hard. Anyone who knew Jack would find it hilarious that her real name was Carol; Mrs. Leung wouldn't find it funny if the admiral burst out laughing at the memory of her dead baby girl.

"Yes, Carol," Shepard said, unable to keep the waver from her voice entirely. "You were told that she died of seizures as an infant. You never saw the body, is that correct?"

"What does this have to do with anything?" Mrs. Leung swallowed hard, obviously fighting back tears. It was hard bringing this up with a woman of such nervous disposition.

"The doctor you saw, Dr. Castor, was identified some years later as a rogue operative, he was working for a group called Cerberus, specifically on their experiments with biotic children. They had it in mind to see if biotic abilities in humans could be enhanced."

Mrs. Leung froze. "What are you saying, admiral?"

"Uh... Carol... was brought onto our crew a little over a year ago. She goes by Jack now. She was the one who sponsored you into Exodus."

A mix of emotions washed over the little woman's face, confusion, joy, shock, disbelief. "Carol... is alive? What happened to her? Is she alright?"

There was the question that Shepard hadn't been looking forward to. Telling a woman her daughter was alive was a great thing, telling her what Jack had been through... was not.

"She's getting better," Shepard said diplomatically, watching Mrs. Leung's face fall as the meaning hit her. "I know this is difficult to hear, but Cerberus was using these kids as test subjects. But Jack is an amazing young woman, she was on the ground team that secured Horizon, helped bring down the Reaper over Eden Prime, she was on the Collector base for our assault."

"What did they do to her?"

The question was almost an accusation and Shepard fought not to flinch. "It's best that you don't know the details. Jack has a lot of trouble opening up about it, even I don't know everything. The important thing is that she's making progress. She's strong, and she could really use a mother."

It had been hard, watching Jack struggle under the weight of her past, never trusting anyone. A mother, someone to love her unconditionally, was exactly what she needed. The only question would be if Mrs. Leung was strong enough to be the mother of someone so damaged, in need of so much care and unlikely to ever truly recover. What Jack had been through... it wasn't the kind of thing people recovered from, it was the kind they might learn to live with, eventually.

"Is she..?"

"She's waiting outside. She asked me to speak with you first, her appearance can be quite startling."

"Startling how?"

Shepard glanced at the door. She didn't have a lot of time before Jack's nerves got the better of her and she destroyed something or just ran. It would have been a lot better if she had all afternoon to talk with Mrs. Leung about the care and handling of your very own abuse victim, but no one's schedule was going to allow that.

"I think it would be best if you saw for yourself."

There was a moment's silence that Shepard took advantage of, slipping off the couch and opening the door. Jack's mother was wringing her hands nervously, looking like she was contemplating jumping out of the window. This was going to go well.

She caught Jack's eye and beckoned her over. Damn, she hated when Jack had that look in her eye, like she was channelling a scared puppy and trying to cover it up with anger. Her lip trembled, her eyes were wide, her shoulders hunched, and she bore an incredibly striking resemblance to the woman giving the exact same look just a few feet away. Shepard gave her a smile and beckoned again.

Jack took a few tentative steps forward and paused at the door. She turned enormous dark eyes on Shepard who in turn rolled her eyes good naturedly.

"Suck it up, princess?" Jack asked.

"You guessed it, Carol."

Jack shot her a venomous glare and crossed the threshold, coming into full view of her mother. Mrs. Leung gasped, a hand pressed across her mouth. Shepard moved to lean against the doorframe, gently discouraging Jack from bolting.

"Hi," Jack tried, shifting her weight self-consciously.

"Hello," Mrs. Leung said in the same voice.

"Jack, this is Dianne Leung. Mrs. Leung, this is Jack. You two probably have a lot to talk about, I'll be outside if you need me."

She stepped outside, leaving them to their standoff. Jack was skittish enough without an audience. She rested against the wall outside, keeping an ear out for a sudden violent crash but otherwise zoning out a little. They would never be playing happy families, Jack was too far gone for that, but maybe she could find some peace in family, maybe talk to them and learn what it was like to have people to trust, even if they didn't bake cookies and tuck her in at night.

Stupid people and their stupid parents. It was totally irrational, she knew, but it just seemed so unfair that other people got to tell their parents to fuck off. Jack might well walk straight out that door again, saying it was too much trouble. Rebellious, hard-headed teenagers all over the galaxy were getting their noses pierced and taking up smoking, just to show their parents what was what, who was in charge.

Shepard never had. Her father was the head of the household, he wouldn't tolerate any nonsense. He demonstrated that clearly when she was just a little girl, and had refused to stop playing with her favourite doll in his workshop. He had threatened to cut it up with an axe if she didn't stop, and she had assumed the threat was idle. From the moment the first piece of her toy hit the ground, she knew that father's word was law. And for all that being an obedient, doting daughter had won her, she was the one who never had the chance to see him again.

"Shepard!" Kolyat's familiar voice, not unexpected, he didn't live far away.

"Hey, Kolyat."

He stood in front of her for a long, awkward moment. "So..."

"How's Aria? Working you hard?"

Kolyat nodded gravely, and she noticed his eyes had visibly sunk with exhaustion. "She's relentless."

"Yeah, she is. You'll have to buck up if you want to survive her."

He gave her a sallow grin. "I have some experience dealing with hardass bitches."

"Oh, you wound me. Has Thane been to see you, yet?"

Kolyat made an expression that looked like the drell approximation of an eye roll. "Yeah, he has. So much for you two not fucking."

Shepard scowled. As if she didn't have enough to deal with today, he had to bring _that_ up. "Amazingly enough, that still holds true. Even when the Reapers aren't declaring war on my sex life, Thane is surprisingly old fashioned about 'doing things right' now that we're engaged."

"More than I needed to know."

"You brought it up. You know I literally haven't been laid in this lifetime? That's depressing."

"'Depressing' isn't the word I'd use."

"Well, not technically. Does asari sex count?"

Kolyat sighed heavily. "I really don't want to count. Can we not count?"

"Fine, whatever." She checked her omnitool. Five more minutes with Jack and she'd call it a win. "Get back to work. Aria's missing you by now."

"As you wish, battlemaster."

He smirked as he passed her by, then paused and turned around. He reached into his jacket an pulled out a small object, tossing it to her before she could recognise it for what it was: Thane's present. Kolyat disappeared while she was enraptured.

It was a small box, only the size of her palm, and square. She shook it, hearing a metal-against-paper rattle, like a chain. She opened it gingerly, feeling like a kid sneaking into her parents chocolates. She honestly didn't know what to expect, what token he would have left her, thinking he'd be dead when she received it.

Inside the box lay... a bauble. Silver filigree over lapis lazuli, around the size of a marble, attached to a fine silver chain. She stared at it for a long moment. It was beautiful, there was no doubt, but it seemed strange that he'd give her jewellery, he was always so much more practical than that. A slip of paper lay beneath it, and she flipped it over, reading the note.

_If humans change, then I hope if nothing else I can leave you reconciled between your strength and your beauty._

Cryptic, just like him. And just like him to recognise her struggling with being a woman and an admiral at the same time. Strength and beauty. She palmed the charm and turned it over and over, suspecting that it held a secret. There were no markings out of place, no one ridge higher than any other.

On an impulse she squeezed it. The galaxy news terminal beside her went dead.

Shepard looked around to see people whacking their omni-tools. She gave a very unladylike guffaw. It was a sensor bomb. The kind security wouldn't confiscate.

God in heaven, she loved that man.

* * *

_Your daddy's not guilty  
You came out a little faulty,  
And the factory closed,  
So you can't hold them liable._

"_Don't Blame Your Daughter" - The Cardigans_


	25. Chapter 25

The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé

Chapter 25

Leisurely Await the Laboured

* * *

Thane asked her about human weddings, wanting to be respectful of her beliefs and traditions.

Shepard counted off human traditions and superstitions on her fingers and toes, then moved on to his. She laughed at the look on his face and told him it didn't matter to her what they did as long as they ended up married.

It all ended up moot, since Liara hijacked the whole affair.

Garrus tried to help her, and he alone probably saved the preparations from being incredibly dull, not that that was his intention. He likely had thought it terribly romantic to have them orbit around a star similar to the Sun despite it being highly radioactive and causing exosuit malfunctions. And placing epinephrine and ipecac injections next to the food was just a precaution – he hadn't meant to imply that everything was toxic.

Grunt tried to organise pit fights to celebrate the induction of a new person into the clan, going so far as to recruit Wrex to the cause. Thane had to promise to participate in the fighting next time they were on Tuchanka to get them to shut it down. Later that night Shepard had to promise that they'd never set foot on Tuchanka again. A pity, as she would have liked to see the fighting, especially were Thane involved.

Thane wasn't entirely sure how to react when Jacob offered to teach him to dance. They eventually settled the matter on the agreement that Jacob would dance with Shepard in his place at the reception, with no hard feelings.

Shepard put her foot down when it came to fluffy white dresses, despite her asari friend's fascination. As a girl she would dream of white silk and chiffon, but in wartime it seemed wasteful and frivolous; people needed to know their admiral had her head in the game. She would wear the peace conference dress and nothing more elaborate.

Kasumi scrounged up a veil from somewhere. The lace looked antique and Shepard had the horrible feeling that she had part of Marie Antionette's wedding gown or something equally priceless. The thief called it a peace offering to stop the string of arm-breakings plaguing her since the first. Shepard cuffed her on the back of her head in thanks.

Thane proved above the influence of a sex-starved primate. The first time she pounced on him during their alone time, he flipped her on her back, spread her legs, pressed her against the bed with full body contact, then told her that since he had the chance to honour her as his wife, he wanted to take it. The sentiment was sweet enough to prevent a full frustration meltdown.

They took time out from wedding planning to make out against the mirrored window of her cabin. He whispered sweet nothings to her that melted her heart and her knees.

They talked about the domesticities of married life. She'd take his name in an official capacity, but all her friends called her Shepard, so there was little point trying to change it for the ship. They'd probably end up living wherever the centre of operations for the UTWB was located. If he had a full transplant or there was a breakthrough in Kepral's research they'd think about cloned children; he didn't want to leave another child fatherless.

Liara had set up what Kasumi termed a 'PR-gasm', inviting the War Board and half of the governments of their influence – she had wisely chosen to inform Shepard of that not in person – and securing its public broadcast throughout the Terminus space. The whole galaxy would be watching their icon enter into a cross-species marriage, a symbol of what the Reapers couldn't destroy – and getting all the political leaders together in a friendly environment didn't hurt her cause. Al-Jilani and any other Westerlund representative were banned from getting near the _Shepard_.

Kolyat was present with a claim that he was only there for free booze. Having him and his effervescent personality aboard the _Shepard_ was a delight, and Shepard proclaimed that his surly commentary would be a full audio track if they made a vid of the wedding.

Early into the night, Jack, attired in as little as possible to meet the requirements for 'clothed', began picking out 'easy marks' before she was told in no uncertain terms by Garrus that there was to be little to no trouble making. She settled for leering at high ranking diplomats until they spilled their drinks.

Shepard was sure she had at some point been married. But on the observation deck, with the light shining so brightly, Thane looking so sexy and the whole world through a filter of lace, she felt more like she was watching a vid of herself than living the moment. It seemed to pass in a heartbeat. He slid a ring onto her finger and she sighed in satisfaction. He kissed her in front of a hundred people and she was flying.

There was food, seemingly endless speeches full of lofty words like 'auspicious' and 'unification', and, thankfully, plenty to drink. She didn't hit the ryncol – she needed to be wide awake for the night to come.

As most of the guests, unable to stay long into the night, filtered out in small groups and the _Shepard_ crewmen on duty left to their stations, the formal publicity stunt slowly turned into a drunken shindig, with many toasts raised to the happy couple by increasingly inebriated soldiers.

Shepard did end up dancing with Jacob, as well as any other crew member who could keep up with her. She hadn't danced in years, really – perhaps not since Mindoir. It was liberating in her tipsy state to whirl around the room, especially when she caught Thane's eye and saw exactly how much he appreciated the art. She left the boys she had been dancing with giddy, and they ran back to their friends with the proud announcement that they had danced with _the_ Admiral Shepard.

"Damn, Shep, you weren't lying about being able to dance," Kasumi said as Shepard collapsed back into her chair, exhausted and dry-mouthed.

"Told you." She took a long drink of water between heavy breaths, nearly choking as she felt Thane's hand slide up her thigh. She coughed, spluttered, met his eye and flushed vibrantly.

"Uh-oh, krogans on the loose again." Kasumi grinned and pointed to the floor, where Jack had climbed on top of Grunt's shoulders and was wrestling with a crewman in a similar position. She was remind of the wrestling matches she and her friends had at the beach.

She might have disrupted the match, but they looked like they were having fun, and, with Thane's fingers running circles on the sensitive underside of her knee, nothing short of a Reaper showing up could have convinced her to move from that spot. She'd never seen him so happy, so passionate, everything that was usually hidden beneath an iron outer shell was now glowing out of him, and not just because she'd been stealing kisses all night.

"So, Shepard," Garrus said. "How does it feel to be a married woman?"

She racked her brain for an answer that wouldn't sound appallingly sappy. "A lot like being an unmarried woman, only better."

"I wish I could see the look on Alenko's face."

She shoved him, knowing he was only drunk and didn't really hold a grudge against Kaidan. "Don't you start. Just because we didn't part on the best of terms doesn't mean I'm cackling evilly at the thought of him suffering."

"You were always too nice to him," Garrus said, almost sagely save for the slight intoxicated wobble of his head. "If any of the rest of us were that stupid, you would have laughed at us until your sides split or at least knocked us unconscious."

"I tried, remember?" She grinned, nudging Thane. "My gracious husband put me in a death lock."

"Yeah, guess a guy needs to have some hand-to-hand skills to grapple with you, Shepard." There was a mischievous glint in his eye that she might not have tolerated any other day, but her spirits were too high to do more than laugh.

"You know it. He'd need to be a little dexterous, if you know what I mean. Spry. A strong grip. Have a wide stance for good leverage. Then it's all about strength if he wants to get the upper hand, I can be quite nimble – _gah!_" She cut off with a yelp as Thane squeezed her thigh, effectively ending her little speech and turning her cheeks scarlet.

Garrus laughed, giving her a knowing squint. "You two are perfect for each other."

Thane squeezed her once more, gently. When she met his eyes she found his expression determined and expectant – he wanted to leave, and oh, did she want to join him. She'd talked and drank and danced and put in enough of an appearance, she reasoned. Hell, she'd played the good responsible CO for a _year_ now, it was time to get caveman and drag him to her cabin by his hair... so to speak.

Still, it was going to be fairly embarrassing leaving the room, since her crew would know exactly what they were getting up to. Shepard grinned at her... husband. Her husband. Screw those guys, she wanted the whole damn galaxy to know that she was finally... _finally_... sleeping with Thane Krios.

"We're out, see you suckers later," she announced.

To a chorus of wolf whistles and childish _ooh_ing she grabbed Thane's hand and practically dragged him from the room. She might have attempted to run in her heels if he hadn't taken her by the arm, as if he were escorting her home after a first date. Curse him, his politesse and his ability to make her too mushy to be hot-headed.

They were barely inside the door to her cabin when her back was pressed against the wall, her wrists pinned to the bulkhead and her mouth captured by his.

It wasn't the tender, sweet kiss that Thane always started out with. No, this was the kiss of a man starved, his tongue forcing her lips apart, his knee between her thighs, his hand at the nape of her neck, angling her face to his. She met his fervour with her own, a year of wanting poured into a single kiss, chilli chocolate burning her tongue.

The grinding of his hips was close to drive her mad – he'd never been so forceful with her, and it was turning her on, leaving her sweaty and flustered. Her spine was pressed painfully against the bulkhead, her hair caught behind her back, her thighs aching from holding her weight in that way, and she loved it.

He released her wrists to cup her face, splaying his fingers along her jaw and behind her ears. They broke their kiss, panting, her lips were tingling, her vision wildly colourful.

She rubbed her nose against his, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. "Decided I'm not a howling beast?"

"You are." He punctuated his statement by pressing his thigh against her groin, tearing a moan from her. "I can see why human men like this. It is very healthy for the ego."

As if to demonstrate his point he began sucking on the pulse point in her neck, drawing frantic cries from her. She ground against his leg to relieve the rapidly building pressure but to no avail. She tugged at his jacket – she needed his skin against hers _now_.

"Fuck, Thane..."

He tossed aside the jacket without easing up on her, and ran his newly-freed hands slowly up her ribs, teasing the underside of her breasts.

She pulled at the buckles and straps of his vest, each taught clasp giving way until she forced his shoulders back to allow her to slip it off and see his bare torso for the first time. Her breath left her in a rush. Glorious. This was happening. After so many long nights, restless days of her body aching, her mind wandering, needing more, not knowing if she'd ever get it, this was happening. She tenderly kissed the angry scar that ran the length of his chest, careful not to hurt him. She could feel each of his hard, short breaths rattle beneath his skin.

Her attentions were interrupted by his hands pulling at the fabric of her dress just above her hips. She raised her arms and he removed it in one smooth movement, a groan rattling in his throat as he drank her in – the lingerie Miranda had picked out was barely worthy of the name, just scraps of lace and silk.

"Touch me," he rasped, his own hands finding her waist again.

Shepard nodded, quivering with arousal and anticipation, and slipped a hand between them, rubbing him if only to hear his growl. She could see the trembling in his shoulders, the tension in his arms, his eyes fluttering closed; she knew he was wound up as she, desperate for this ache to be relieved.

His hands traced a jerky line down her back, over her ass and then down her thighs. He pulled her off her feet, resting her weight against the wall for just a moment to whisper in her ear.

"I thank all the gods I can name—" he nibbled her earlobe, "that you are wearing those shoes."

Her whimper was cut off when he whirled her away from the wall, carrying her to the edge of the bed and balancing over her.

Shepard took advantage of this moment of weakness, tightening her knees around his hips, pushing up with one arm and flipping him onto his back. It was all well and good for his ego to be fed by this experience, but she had her own to worry about. Maybe Thane would never truly lose control, never howl to the ceiling like she would, but she wanted to see his calm _damaged_, and she knew how to do it.

He stared up at her, momentarily dazed, and she rocked her hips against him gently. He reached up to touch her but she slammed his wrists back against the mattress, leaning forward to hiss, "Keep them there."

She trailed her lips down his frill, laved his ridges with an open mouth. Against her bare sternum she could feel a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr begin. She followed the red skin down his collarbone, hands running across his scales, searching for tender spots, her mouth following his coloured scales in a trail down his chest, her luminous poisoned vision highlighting the sensitive scales like a glowing track.

She felt the tightening in his stomach, his muscles clenching under the ministrations of her hands and mouth, his purr growing in volume and vigour. Red stripes lined his abdomen, each tender and begging for her tongue, and she complied, feeling his hips buck against her as she loosened his pants and tugged them down.

A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. She was about to show him something a drell woman couldn't do.

She looked up at him, meeting his burning eyes, a little confused, a little curious. She dragged his pants down his legs, slowly, teasing, unbuckling his boots on the way. When he lay bare before her she bit down on the inside of his thigh and he hissed, his head falling back against the bed.

"No, Thane, look at me, watch me." She dragged her nails down his hips, dragged her mouth up his thigh. "I want you to remember this."

She ran her tongue over him, smacking her lips at the unexpected, sickly sweet taste, and he groaned deep in his chest. He was breathing so hard that she was almost afraid she might send him into pulmonary arrest again. But his gaze was pleading, wanting more, so she complied, taking him into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat.

Thane cried out hoarsely, his hips bucking. Shepard laid her hands flat against his hips to hold him down. He was beautiful underneath her, body stretched and twitching, muscles coiled, her attentions breaking his perfect calm. She moaned with satisfaction, knowing that it would vibrate up the length of him.

Maybe it was the effects of his hallucinogen, but he tasted so good, saccharine and tangy. His breathless moans were shooting down the length of her spine, winding her tighter, and she wanted him so badly she couldn't breathe.

Shepard pulled back, eliciting an involuntary growl of protest, and she smiled. She took pity on him and removed her bra, standing up to slide her panties down her legs, keeping her heels on with a wicked grin. He struggled to sit up, resting his weight on one hand, wrapping his free arm around her waist to guide her into his lap.

Her whole body sighed in relief as she settled into his arms, rough scales teasing her thighs, his heartbeat pounding against her chest, their breathing soon falling in sync. She grasped him by the shoulders and kissed him, achingly sweet; very soon he'd need reminding that she loved him for more than his body.

Shepard reached down, taking firm grasp of him and guiding him to her entrance. She took a deep breath and sunk down.

"Fuck, oh fuck..." she hissed through clenched teeth. It had been so long, and his ridging made him feel so big. A part of her wanted to pull back to avoid the pain, but she was physically unable to stop, a compulsion as strong as breathing forcing her down onto him.

She buried her face in his neck and he held her close, gasping in her ear, holding her as though letting go might kill him. She could have cried from the sensation, drugs fuelling her lust, having him in her, a part of her, not knowing where he ended and she began. He rubbed circles on her lower back, easing her screaming muscles, letting her take him more deeply.

Shepard locked her eyes with his and raised up ever so slightly before driving back down, a broken sob tearing from her lips. She tried to build some kind of rhythm before she went mad from the feeling. It seemed obvious to her now why drell didn't have fast, furious sex. Hyper awareness had her counting his every ridge, feeling them each individually as they slipped inside her again, his perfectly muscled thighs giving her firm leverage; she couldn't go any faster, she couldn't take it.

So she built a slow, steady pace, gasping, sobing against his shoulder, her fingernails digging into his back, wondering if she could survive this, or the tension threatened to break.

"Siha..." he groaned. "I never imagined..."

"Neither did I," she managed and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Her mind was a mess, thoughts circling in on each other, winding into tighter and tighter circles until the world dissolved into flashes of light and colour, the only thought as she rode him was for more, more, _more_.

Perhaps her state had left her vulnerable, but suddenly her world was turned upside down, sunlight bathing her face, and never righted itself again. He must have been on top of her, she decided, tucking her knees against his ribs to keep from encircling him, digging her spiked heels into his thighs. There was something soft and warm, the blanket, pressed against her back. She was floating, spinning through the air, like someone had turned off the gravity.

He positioned himself and... _oh_. Someone had done his homework. He wasn't gentle or slow, as she had been. And she didn't care, too far gone to worry about personal injury or even notice the pain of her abused muscles. Just there, right there, more, deeper, _now_.

The only thing that existed was him, his muscles clenching under her hands, his mouth on her neck, his hips rolling and snapping, deep inside her, all around her, enfolding, encroaching, protecting. She cried out, eyes delirious and searching without focus. His mouth descended to her breast and it was all she could do not to scream.

Too much, it was too much. "Thane... Thane... ah!"

The world turned white as she came, clenching, arching, yelling, her body dissolving into light, her mind thrown to the end of eternity. It went on and on, white hot pleasure replacing her blood, burning through her veins. She wrapped her arms around him tighter, wanting to feel every inch of his body on her skin, pushing onto him harder to make him feel her rapture.

Shepard came down, panting, her eyes wild. She needed him to stop, suddenly so sensitive. But his thrusts were becoming jerky and uncoordinated and instead she held him close to her, steadying herself against the aftershocks, letting him bury his face in her hair. He came with a hoarse shout, his whole body tightening and she moaned again at the feeling.

They collapsed together into an inelegant mess of limbs, shaking and sweating, clinging to each other, not ready to move or speak or think. Her eyes refused to focus but she could just barely make out Thane's smile above her. He was glowing an angelic gold, like a halo, and she sighed with satisfaction.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" she said, her voice coming out slurred.

Thane eased himself off her, pressing his hands gingerly against his ribs where her knees had been resting. "Nothing permanent, I think."

"Sorry." She straightened her legs with a pained wince, her whole lower body was aching, and her hips screamed with protest at the movement.

He chuckled with genuine humour. "Don't be."

She felt boneless, totally incapable of moving, but he slid an arm under her back, another under her knees, and ever so gently, almost reverently, lifted her up to lay her down among the pillows. The light from the sun was still shining, the _Shepard_ still orbiting the star, and she curled up against her husband in the yellow light.

"Don't ever try to leave me again," she mumbled against his collarbone.

He kissed her hair, one hand stroking her back. "Never."

* * *

_You're toxic, I'm slipping under._

_With a taste of a poison paradise,_

_I'm addicted to you,_

_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

"_Toxic" - Britney Spears_


	26. Chapter 26

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 26**

**Catch a Fish While the Water Is Disturbed**

* * *

"All stations, report."

Week two of marriage, week twenty-three of the war, week forty-eight of admiralty. Week uncountable of her work never being done.

Shepard stood on the CIC above all the stations. This war had degraded. Where once there was a strait path set out before her – Reapers appear, attack where they're thickest, defend the periphery – the more their numbers dwindled, the more complicated things became.

"We have Reapers engaged in seven clusters, no groups stronger than five."

"Two Reapers spotted in the Artemis Tau cluster overnight. Current whereabouts unknown."

"Something set off the sensor minefield outside Therum. We can't be sure what, but there are scorch marks from Reaper weapons in the vicinity. No landing."

"Quarian ship went missing just outside the Flotilla relay. No sightings."

Shepard sighed. Their problem was that the Reapers were smart. A head-on confrontation had worked to some extent – the UTN forces may have been cut down in numbers, but the Reapers obviously knew that there was no point in trying to break the line with their current resources. So they were hiding, indoctrinating, refuelling, lulling the galaxy into a false sense of security. Where once the _Shepard_ had been an attack vessel it was now a mobile search base. They were trying everything short of voodoo and scrying.

Also, she had a rash – and it itched. That might not have warranted as much complaining as the Reapers, but if she was going to be frustrated she'd be going all out. Embarrassingly enough it turned out that drell-contact rash had a fast and very specific onset. Her neckline was just low enough to show the beginnings of the handprint over left breast, no matter how much she tugged to try to cover it. And Thane pretended that he wasn't _proud_.

"There are only three hundred of these things, people, and they're the size of a small city. There is no way it can be this hard."

"We have news from the Shadow Broker. Agent T'Soni is bringing in important information," her comm officer said.

"Alright, everyone let me know when we get something solid." She turned to Arrius. "Have teams sent out to investigate those anomalies."

"Yes, Admiral."

She stormed off, working herself into a nice huff. It was mostly for dramatics – she needed to blow off some steam, and blustering made her feel better. The truth was that she was stuck, and, intentionally or not, they were starving Citadel space, which wouldn't be reopened until every last Reaper was dead. She'd managed to covertly allot some extra food to those she loved, but all that did was let her sleep a little easier.

She debated what to do, eventually settling on taking food up to her cabin. She needed to discuss her problems through with Thane. In all honesty, they hadn't spoken of the war in months. There had been so much on his mind – the sickness, the transplant, the wedding – that she didn't feel right burdening him, he didn't need her job on his shoulders as well.

Unlike the _Normandy_, things on the _Shepard_ were far too organised – she couldn't simply rifle through the kitchen and find what she wanted. So she waited until the mess sergeant, a quarian who was just a little _too_ relaxed about who received dextro and who levo,got around to her. It was 'night' on the _Shepard_, and the off-hours crew were trying to get a final bite to eat before their shifts.

It seemed Arrius had the same idea, and she waved him over as he entered.

"Teams have been dispatched, Admiral," he said.

"Thanks." Shepard sighed, then lowered her voice, "I'm screwing this up, aren't I?"

The turian looked genuinely surprised. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know, I've misplaced three hundred Reapers, it could take decades to hunt them down, and I have half the armada chasing rumours while the Council starves."

"Are you always this hard on yourself?"

She considered. "Yes."

He gave her a grandfatherly smile. "It took the Reapers mere days to control this galaxy the last time they showed up. You've held out nearly six months and show no sign of folding. So no, I would not say that you're 'screwing this up'."

Shepard eyed him carefully. She liked him. He was probably the only one on the ship with any idea of what pressure she was under. Perhaps he hadn't fought the Reapers, but he had commanded a fleet, and knew the responsibilities and privileges. And doubt.

"So what do I do?"

"They've changed tactics, so you react in kind. Search and destroy isn't working."

"Don't suppose you have any ideas for something different?"

Arrius shook his head. "Can't say I've ever fought a war like this, Shepard. You know these things better than anyone, you know how they think."

Shepard nodded, a little disturbed that she had inadvertently turned into 'Reaper specialist'. He was right – a change in tactics was called for. She'd laid down the foundations but wasn't building on them. The galaxy was relatively safe. There had been no major incidents since Palaven. The remaining Reapers were preserving their numbers too closely to make any serious incursions for the moment – they had the time to expand their influence.

"Thank you, Arrius. I'm glad to have you on board."

"It's an honour to serve on your ship, Shepard."

She smiled, then saw that the mess sergeant wasn't busy in her peripheral vision and pounced.

A tray of food in hand, she headed to her cabin, anxious to speak with Thane. Arrius had helped calm her thoughts somewhat, but she couldn't turn to him for the exchange she needed – he didn't know her the same way, didn't know where she'd get hung up, and she could hardly have a civilised meltdown in the middle of the mess if it came to that.

She hit the door's button with her elbow, still carrying food. Thane sat at her table, hands folded, meditating. The familiar flush of arousal washed over her, and she again cursed their tight schedule not allowing for a honeymoon. Couples were supposed to get at least a few days to do it on ever available flat surface until it was out of their systems. As it stood every time she saw him she wanted to throw him down and take him forcefully.

The door slid shut with her on the wrong side and she realised she'd been staring too hard to actually enter the room. Flushing bright red she hit the panel again and walked inside. She tossed the packets of food on the table and sat across from him to no reaction, and wondered briefly if he's even noticed her enter. But he'd have to know – an assassin didn't stay alive if he wasn't aware of his surroundings.

Shepard mimicked his pose, back straight, hands clasped, and watched him, taking this little moment of peace.

It took about two minutes before a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I can't tell whether you are respecting my meditation or mocking me, siha."

"Can't I do both?" she asked innocently.

He opened his eyes, black pools of ink, and observed her as he was wont to do. She was sure he was cataloguing her, full of ardour but hesitant to touch, as if he'd sully the moment by involving himself.

"You look tense."

"That's one word for it. Have you eaten?"

"No, I was waiting for you."

She slid one of the packets to him across the table and peeled her own open. Delicious partially-reconstituted dehydrated semi-flavoured protein. Getting to eat real food again was motivation enough to defeat the Reapers. This would at least give her the energy for a round of vigorously rubbing her back against a wall.

Eating dinner at the table with her husband – it all felt bizarrely domestic in the middle of everything else, something she hadn't had anything even close to since she was sixteen. All they'd need was Grunt and Kolyat and it would be just like home. Well... not _just_ like home. But close.

"I have things on my mind," she admitted, poking her food with her fork.

"You may tell me anything, siha."

She scrunched her nose as if her thoughts themselves were unpalatable. She decided to lead with more exigent issue. "I'm itchy."

"Perhaps you should consider yourself lucky. Your markings were not gouged into you."

The flat look on his face made her bark with laughter. "Alright, you win this round, assassin."

"As I knew I would."

She grinned, happy to have him to return to after a long day. After a few moments, she sobered, smile turning sad, and she knew she had to face what was happening. "The Reapers have me."

"They have you?"

"I'm stuck. The search-and-destroy will take too long, and since our estimates of their numbers have never been totally accurate we may never be sure that we've destroyed them all. They could wait a decade or so, wait until we've reverted to complacency, then indoctrinate a few planets before they're detected, start rebuilding the Reapers and bam: we're the next Protheans."

He gave her a long look. "That's quite a detailed scenario."

"It's what I would do," she sighed, resting her forehead on her free hand. "Do you think they're getting into my head? Am I starting to think like a Reaper?"

"Are you worried that you've spent too much time around indoctrinating technology, or that you're simply becoming unable to separate yourself from 'Admiral Shepard'?"

"Admiral Krios," she reminded him with a wry smile. "And yes. Both. More."

He fixed her with what she'd taken to calling his 'thinking' stare and she waited abided his answer. "You have been around Reapers and their indoctrinating qualities for some time, yet there is no one more paranoid than you. I think you would recognise the signs within yourself long before you fell, and if you didn't, I would. You're a dedicated soldier, siha. Dedicated to this war and everything that you protect by fighting. That will always be a part of who you are. You will think like a Reaper for as long as our lives depend on your doing so."

"And what do I do about them going to ground? Arrius thinks I need to change tactics. And I agree, but I don't know what I have left to offer."

"You have brought us this far by outwitting them, using their hubris against them. Perhaps in your rush you lacked foresight, but their nature has not changed, nor has yours."

Curse him and his perfectly sensible wisdom. That all made sense, but it just wasn't... _fitting_. It was like she had this puzzle in her head and the pieces wouldn't connect; the more she thought the more it felt like she was just ramming them together and denting edges, making it even harder to complete. She raked a hand through her hair, praying for clarity.

Reapers, hiding, spread out. Like the geth. Able to hide and deactivate, preserve energy, amassing for attack, largely uncommunicative all other times, able to work in tandem, millions of calculations per second. They'd talk to organics, but not to each other.

She smacked her forehead. "They're machines."

Thane raised one brow. "They are."

"No, no, you don't understand. They're _machines_. I've been thinking all this time that they travel basically incommunicado, but they don't – I just can't see it. They trade more information in one second than I will in my entire life."

"I admit, siha, I am lost."

She shifted forward in her chair, suddenly excited. "We assume the Reapers and the geth don't communicate amongst themselves, which is natural, because we never observe them interact or even acknowledging each other. They don't do any of the things organics would do to denote a relationship, but they _do_ interact. They're always talking, always broadcasting. They know everything that's happening in and to every Reaper, anywhere in broadcast range. Including their location."

Thane blinked. "You think we could access this information?"

"_Yes_. We have the geth, they speak the same language. If they get access they could transmit that information to the entire armada. The Reapers are spread out in hiding, the largest group we've observed is eight and that was when they deliberately came together to attack. If we cut their lines of communication we could completely outnumber them. Overrun their small groups, systematic search and destroy."

He looked deeply concerned by her idea. "Siha, capturing a Reaper is incomparable to destroying one. Should you do so, it may issue a distress call."

"No, it won't. That's the beauty of it. Alright, capturing it isn't going to be easy, and they likely wipe their memory when they're destroyed like the geth, but a Reaper never believes it's in danger. Ever. Even now I get at least three messages a day about how this war is futile, and how they're our 'genetic destiny'. They are far too proud to ever think they'll be defeated."

Thane rested his chin on his hands, mulling over the idea. She knew it would work. It would be brilliant. She was practically glowing with excitement.

"How will you stop the Reapers from learning that you have this information and thus changing their locations?"

Shepard paused. "I don't know. We'll figure it out."

"_Agent_ _Liara T'Soni is requesting entry,_" the personality-void VI announced.

"I miss EDI," she grumbled, then yelled over her shoulder, "Come in, Liara!"

The door slid open and a very tired Liara staggered inside. She looked like she hadn't slept in a week, and she probably hadn't. She'd been out on every Prothean dig site in the galaxy, certain they'd left something else behind to help.

"Shepard, Thane," Liara said.

"Hey, Liara. Want some protein flakes? They're just like a chocolate milkshake, only salty."

To Shepard's surprise the asari nodded, snatching the packet from her hand. She really had been having a bad week. The admiral pushed the tray over in front of her friend, letting her finish the leftovers.

"I do have news," Liara insisted between mouthfuls. "We found—"

Shepard patted Liara on her back as she choked on her food. "Eat first. We have time."

Liara nodded gratefully, casting a quick glance at the red handprint peeking out from Shepard's bust. The admiral covered the rash with her hands, blushing. She had to get more of that ointment from Mordin, this was getting really embarrassing.

"We found..." Liara coughed and swallowed. "It turns out that there were more archives than just Ilos. A number of teams were sent to different planets to investigate methods of fighting the Reapers. We pieced together a VI, and, while it wasn't capable of much, it was able to pass on the location of a prototype of something they'd developed."

"What kind of weapon?"

"A virus of sorts. The Reapers adapt quickly, so it wouldn't work for more than a few minutes – fifteen at most – but it would cause a fleet-wide blackout and prevent them from communicating with each other."

Shepard was dead silent, unable to process what she was hearing. That was not possible. Enough time to hack into a Reaper's system, obtain the locations of other Reapers, and kill its core, all without allowing it to update the fleet on what was happening.

Shepard grinned. "Liara, I think I married the wrong alien."

* * *

_Well it's a lot too clever, it's all too severe,_

_All my friends died right here _

"_The Game" - End of Fashion_


	27. Chapter 27

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 27**

**Remove the Ladder When the Enemy Has Ascended to the Roof**

* * *

Shepard found it deeply ironic that the only promise she hadn't honoured as yet in her War Board contracts had ended up being the one she wished she had been on from day one. Although she had to give it to Sederis, the woman had been very reasonable about her all but forgetting their arrangement.

The crew of the _Normandy_ stood high above the deepest valley on Lahwen, looking at the truly absurd amount of mercenaries and slaves below. Batarians – Blue Suns. It had to be the biggest slaver nest she'd ever seen, and somehow they'd managed to build it exactly where she didn't need it.

They probably used the vast archives as storage for slaves and weapons. Whatever protective measures the Protheans had used would most certainly not let them near anything important or valuable, and she doubted that they had any idea of the significance of their chosen base. To them it likely was just another old building.

Shepard shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. They didn't even have the decency to build their stupid base on a warm world. They'd probably lost more than a few slaves in this weather. She signalled her people forward, not bothering to activate her radio. The blizzard would hide their approach.

"Just like old times, hey?" she asked her crew. "Let's go be good guys. No killing slaves."

They moved forward, treading carefully as they descended into the valley, hugging the sheer walls and stumbling along rough flats.

"Uh, Shep?" Kasumi asked.

"Yes?"

"What are we planning to do with the slaves once we kill the mercs?"

Shepard frowned. "We'll think of something. We might not be able to kill all the mercs. First priority is the virus."

They approached the base behind its high steel walls obviously meant to keep away both the biting wind and intruders. She could have told them that the air convection would only work to cool their facility, but now didn't really seem the time to be debating thermodynamics with mercenaries. Maybe once they were done.

There were a few dozen prefab buildings scattered across the valley. She guessed the archives were below, the entrance hidden along the face off the cliff. If they could confirm that no slaves were being held above ground then once they were in the underground areas it would be easier to just call in air support and burn the whole place off the map.

Shepard brought up her map, looking for EDI's markers to work with. She wished Zaeed were here; he might have been able to give her more information on the layout.

Their little group felt lopsided. One biotic missing, forcing her to edge right to cover Jack's blind spots. One suppressor missing, Miranda and Jacob having to spread out, their effectiveness reduced. But she felt her safety assured, her second sniper finally back in place. When she'd gone on missions in the old days, lacking the luxury of a full crew and having to leave most behind to keep the ship in order, she'd always take Thane and Garrus when she was feeling insecure. Two eyes of the eagle. Two claws of the tiger.

"Kasumi, scout ahead – those buildings on the far side look big enough to hold slaves – and find the exact location of the archives."

"Aye aye, Shep."

The thief gave a mock salute and vanished. Shepard crouched down and pressed herself against the wall, giving the signal for the others to follow suit. Snow began to settle on them almost instantly. She kept a close eye on the reptilian members of the crew, making sure they didn't look like they'd freeze in place. Thank God for warm blood.

She mentally mapped routes to take them through the path of least resistance. Mercs didn't worry her – her team could bat a batarian away as they would a fly – slaves worried her. Prothean security measures worried her more. They were a lot sneakier than anyone gave them credit for, and she didn't know what to expect when accessing lost tech.

They stayed frozen – literally – until a pair of footprints appeared in the snow outside the walls.

"There are a dozen slaves being held in the far north-eastern building. The archives' entrance is six metres south of EDI's marker, and it's being guarded by eight batarians. Too many to count in the other buildings."

Shepard nodded, chewing on her lip while she formed a game plan.

"Alright," she said. "Kasumi, Mordin and I will secure the slaves. Thane and Garrus, get to the sniping towers and create some confusion; try not to get killed. The rest of you head for the archives. Once you're there, I want Jack and Grunt to clear a path for us to bring the slaves down, everyone else secure the entrance. No one enter the archives until we rendezvous. Clear?"

They split off when she had everyone's assent, Kasumi cloaked behind her and Mordin shivering in the wind, doing his best to keep up. They moved around the outside of the wall, the snow that coated them acting as an adequate camouflage while Thane and Garrus moved into position.

They flanked the far gate, unguarded. Idiots.

The quiet _thunk_ of a sniper's bullet finding its mark signalled their advance. They slunk behind the buildings, spotting mercs, marking doors, finding their way to the slaves. The wind and snow made everything blurry, spots of clarity jumping around and fading.

"We're under attack!" she heard a batarian shout.

"Where are they?"

Shepard smirked. As far as she knew, her snipers were the only ones to have even fired a shot. Those two were very good at pissing people off.

"The sniper towers!"

Idiots.

They charged blindly, not even noticing the shadow team until they'd blundered straight into the path of Shepard's shotgun. As if she'd let them get to her husband and her best friend. If they had a lick of common sense they would have evacuated all Prothean ruins the moment the UTWB took an interest.

Soon the white storm was flooded with shadowy figures racing back and forth and trying to find who was causing all the trouble. Shepard led her team forward, they were nearly at the target.

A body suddenly falling from the blizzard surprised her, a scorch mark between its eyes. She peered through the snow, hearts in her eyes. She loved her family. People were falling left and right, tripping over their own feet if they hadn't yet been shot down. A flare of blue signalled Jack's approach.

Shepard slammed her elbow into the control panel on the door to one of the slaver compound. The outside guard had long since abandoned their post. She rushed her team inside, and the air lit up with fire and flashbangs as they took out the guards within to a chorus of whimpers. When it was done, they found a dozen figures huddled in small cages.

Humans. Control chips already installed. Dammit.

"Come on, let's get them out of there."

"Shepard," Mordin interrupted. "Subjects malnourished. Immune systems weak. Exposure to low temperatures sure to kill them."

"Not as surely as the _Normandy_ will. Kasumi, help me open the cages. Mordin, see what's around to warm them up."

Shepard knelt, cracking the lock of the first cage. The sharp snap of chilled metal caused every one of the slaves to jump and crowded backward ever further. These ones had been there for a while, been tortured and conditioned. Getting them through the blizzard would be a nightmare.

"Shep..." Kasumi gave her a look, shaking her head slowly.

"Shepard?" a hoarse voice asked, barely more than a whisper. "Commander Shepard?"

Shepard extended a hand to the man. "That's me. Come on, we're getting you out of here."

"No, no, no." He grasped his head in his hands. "Can't go, the pain..."

"I know." She knelt down, crawling ever-so-slowly into the cage as he tried to inch backwards. "My team is out there turning the slavers into mince meat. They've hurt you for the last time. It's over. You just have to take my hand."

She extended one open hand, palm up, and waited. She could see the interplay of emotions. Fear, so much fear. Confusion, doubt, hope, hatred. She didn't move a muscle, letting him take the step on his own.

An icy hand met her own and she clasped it tightly. She edged backwards on her knees, drawing him out slowly, until he was out of the cage. Kasumi still worked on breaking the locks and freeing more prisoners, but they didn't move.

Mordin threw a threadbare blanket around the man's shoulders and he shuddered, closing his eyes in anticipation of a pain that didn't come. She smiled and clapped him gently on the shoulder. Around them people began emerging, hesitant and scared. They worked with blankets and smiles, grasping of hands and gentle hugs, a few fearful smiles scattered among the abused. Kasumi worked around them, shorting the control chips.

At a clatter at the door, the slaves jumped, but Shepard held up her hands.

The door opened with a gust of freezing air, and Jack and Grunt entered, greeting them with wry grins, still brandishing their shotguns.

"Path is clear, Admiral," Jack said.

"We have a dozen here. Grunt, take point with Kasumi and Mordin. Jack, you're rear guard with me." She hit the radio on her earpiece. "Civilians secured. Snipers rendezvous with us at the archives. Path is clear."

Grunt, big enough to follow, led the way, lighting up the dark with shotgun blasts. The slaves clutched their blankets tightly around themselves, scared to go out but apparently more scared of Jack and Shepard behind them. The snow fell thicker around them and they picked up the pace, occasionally taking down a batarian or two. There were still hundreds remaining in the complex, but they couldn't afford to dally.

One of the slaves who stumbled, and Shepard lugged her over a shoulder, shotgun in the other hand.

"Joker," she yelled into her radio. "I need you to bring the rain. Give us three minutes and don't leave anything standing."

"_On it, Admiral._"

"We have three minutes, everyone!"

They convened with the rest of the group minus their snipers and opened the old, worn hatch in the side of the cliff. There was an antechamber, for which Shepard was grateful – there was no way the civilians could take the sight of all-out battle before them. The walls also looked thick enough to withstand the airstrike.

Thane and Garrus, struggling through the snow, made their way to the group and joined them in time to close the hatch. The air within was blissfully still and warm. Shepard set her lode down, steadying the girl and making sure she was uninjured. It would be a miracle if none of them ended up with frostbite, but better frostbitten than enslaved.

The inner door opened and the _Normandy_ crew stormed in, ready for any resistance.

Shepard nearly dropped her gun.

Hundreds of cages lined the massive inner chamber, slaves in various stages of emaciation and, in some cases, decomposition. All human. All filthy. All dead-eyed and despondent. Few even looked up when the soldiers walked in.

There was a scattering of guards– the surface was obviously their main line of defence – and they almost moved to attack the intruders before Shepard turned her gaze on them.

She'd known about slaving operations. How could she not? But after Mindoir she had been kept away from them for fear that she wouldn't be able to keep her head, knowing what had happened to her friends and family.

Looking back, Shepard decided that the Alliance had made the right choice. She couldn't keep her head.

The guards took a few half-hearted shots at her, but she could tell from the look on their ugly faces that they knew what was coming. The shots bounced off her barrier and she advanced. A bullet from behind her took out one, then another – Garrus, Thane, she couldn't tell. Maybe they were worried about her soul if she did what she intended to do, but she was seeing red and ready to put the Butcher of Torfan to shame.

The batarians backed up as she advanced, still shooting. Her shields held and her snipers weren't fast enough.

The moment one came within arm's length she shot out her hand, grabbing him by the armour and raising her shotgun. She brought the butt of the gun down hard on his face, breaking his nose, sending brown blood spurting. Again. Again. Another bloody blow, another bone breaking. She was working on autopilot.

She felt them fall under the weight of her attack, the batarian on his back, herself straddling him as she had been forced to all those years ago.

How could they? How could they look at people of any species and see... what? Animals? Lesser beings? Maybe they didn't, maybe their hearts were just so black and bitter and twisted that they didn't feel compassion for their equals. Their betters. She knew those cages once held her mother. Her grandmother. Her best friend, pretty and fair. Her little cousin, five years old. Control chips jammed in them. Four-fingered hands touching them. Crouched in cages too small.

A hand on her shoulder made her jump and swing around, ready to strike. Black eyes met hers and she managed to halt the blow.

"He's dead, siha," Thane said.

She looked down at her hands, realising that she had just been spraying exposed brain matter everywhere with the last few blows. She was soaked in it, viscera dripping from the necklace that lay over her armour. She took Thane's extended hand; he pretended not to notice the gore that coated his bare skin where she touched him.

"Never enough time with these bastards," she murmured.

A low explosion sounded above them, the airstrike arriving. A shower of dust fell from the roof above them, but the structure otherwise held. There was a cry of dismay from the slaves.

"We have to keep moving," Grunt said.

Shepard wiped her hands on her hardsuit and gave a short nod. "Liara gave us a basic map. Let's go."

She led the way, leaving the slaves. They didn't have the time to open hundreds of cages or deal with the resulting fallout; they could send a medical team down once they were clear.

These old catacombs could become an impenetrable maze, particularly with the frustrating navigation system built into her visor. She tried to follow the arrow, coming up to solid walls and dead ends, bringing up her full map, trying to chart a path. Pods with dead Protheans lined the walls. She wondered if a VI had shut these down, too, trying to preserve itself. Not that she blamed the program; that was its function.

They made their way through the archives, so deep underground, until they hit a barrier that the batarians had clearly been unable to breach, a yellow light like a hologram, but impenetrable. The VI had done this at Ilos to draw attention to itself. Shepard looked around. She had the advantage here, but not by much. If the slavers hadn't found the trigger since they set up the base, her rudimentary knowledge of Prothean security fields wouldn't help her much.

She growled. "Oh, come on! I've killed five hundred Reapers, isn't that enough to get me past?"

Much to her surprise, the barrier seemed to respond, flickering and fading. She stood still for a moment, unable to believe that bitching was the key to their security system.

"Code word," said Mordin. "Very smart."

Of course, they wouldn't want the tech discovered by someone who didn't know about the Reapers and couldn't use it. She grinned and was about to crack a joke when a shockwave hit her like a blow. The floor shook under her feet and she thought the upper floors of the complex had collapsed.

She looked around wildly, only to see that none of the others had staggered. They looked like they hadn't even noticed the force.

"Shepard?" Garrus asked. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head to clear the shock. "I'm fi–"

She was cut off when the walls shook again. A pressure built behind her nose, like her sinuses were blocked. She stumbled, bracing herself against the wall. Her eyes suddenly burned.

"Siha?" Thane was beside her, letting her lean on his shoulder.

Opening her eyes she found them clouded with black, barely able to make out Tali's mask before her. She cried out as the next wave hit. Tali's fingers traced her face, coming up bloody. There was something acrid and coppery in her mouth, filling her senses.

"Shepard!" Tali cried.

"Mordin, Lawson, what is happening?" Thane barked, his hands tightening around her waist in distress.

There were hands on her, prying her eyes and mouth open, taking her out of Thane's arms. She gritted her teeth against the wave, now a background throb, hitting her again and again. How could they not feel it? It was getting inside her head, into her bones, trying to crush her, to pull her apart. Her legs wouldn't support her and she fell to her knees, neither doctor able to hold her up.

"It's the cybernetics," said Miranda. "This place thinks she's a husk."

"We have to shut it down!" The voice was murky. Garrus? Tali? She couldn't tell.

A massive arm slung around her waist, forced her own arm over impossibly huge shoulders and she was being dragged forward. She could feel the blood dribbling down her chin from her mouth, her eyes, her nose. Even her ears were wet and stinging.

It was nothing compared to her chest. It felt like someone had a knife in her sternum and was twisting. She tried to breathe, shallow gasps all that would come. Her other arm was pulled up and she gave up trying to walk, now just being hauled along, her feet dragging behind her. There was a strangled warbling sound in the air and she thought it might have been coming from her.

The air was vibrating with the sound of a dozen sets of pounding footsteps, no one was slowing down, just running, running, while she thought her body might have been falling apart. It felt like each tendon was separating from bone and muscle, and it might have been. She was delirious from the pain, but even she could tell that whatever this force was, it was meant to rip apart the cybernetics that constituted so much of her body – her nerves, her eyes, half her organs, a lot of her muscles.

"_Shepard!_" A voice in her ear. Joker? "_There's a Reaper in orbit, it looks like it's getting ready to land!_"

That was important. She knew it was important. She had to tell someone, no one else could hear. She tried to breathe in enough to speak, but she couldn't. She could barely breathe in enough to keep herself conscious, already her lungs were burning. The most she could manage was a distressed murmur.

"We're nearly there, Shepard," someone said.

"_Shepard? Dammit, come in, Shepard! Do you copy? God dammit, Shepard!_"

She struggled, trying to break free from the hold around her. She might as well have been struggling against giants, they probably couldn't even feel her efforts. There was light among the shadows, flickering yellow and gold light in the overgrown ruins, just like on Ilos. They were close.

Voices. Synthetic. Organic. Just snippets.

"You are not machines, and I do not detect the taint of indoctrination."

"Dammit, it's speaking Prothean! Shepard's the only one who understands it."

"Perhaps it can understand us."

"She's not a husk! You can see she's not a husk and you're killing her!"

"Legion, can you tell it?"

She was released, again her knees hitting the ground, familiar scaled arms cradling her. She sobbed with the pain, wishing she could stop, it stopped her from even the weak breathing of which she was capable. Her blood was spilling from her. she knew she was bleeding internally, there was no way her veins could survive this pressure much longer without breaking.

"If she dies this galaxy dies with her!"

"_Shepard, if you can hear me, I'm calling for reinforcements. I'm going to get you out of there._"

That was the last thing she heard, her ears too filled with blood to understand any more. She rested her head against Thane's shoulder, letting the agony wash over her, her whole world red, every sight, every sound, ever smell.

Then it was gone.

Shepard gasped, suddenly able to breathe, though the pain hadn't gone. She jerked violently at the sudden absence of pressure, falling out of Thane's hold. Her back hit the ground and her head cracked against the stone. She blinked, unable to entirely clear her vision. Shadowy figures peered down at her. Her arm was giving her hell; she was sure her shoulder had dislocated as the joint dissolved.

"Do we have it?" she asked.

"We have it," Garrus said.

Shepard swallowed hard and hit her radio. "Joker, get the _Normandy_ out of here and let the Reaper land."

* * *

_I'm know I'm headed for the bottom,_

_But I'm riding you all the way._

"_Mailman" - Soundgarden_


	28. Chapter 28

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé **

**Chapter 28**

**Chain Stratagems**

* * *

"Are you insane?" Miranda shrieked, her perfect hair dishevelled, perfect skin pale and drawn. "The level of damage done to your cybernetics... you're half blind! Your left arm is useless! We can't engage now!"

Shepard struggled to her feet, Thane supporting her under one arm. "Less talk, more action, princess."

"Siha, Agent Lawson does have a point."

She chuckled, her voice coming out wrong through the blood and wrecked tissue. "It's now or never. One Reaper alone on an isolated, unpopulated planet. We're not going to get this chance again any time soon. I can do it."

"I stand with you, battlemaster," Grunt said.

Shepard wasn't blind enough to miss Thane's exasperated look, as if he wanted to tell Grunt off for encouraging her, though she was a little worried at the black splotches throughout her vision.

"We don't have time to stand around talking about this, we need to get to the surface." She started limping toward the door, knowing they'd follow. "I'd usually give everyone an inspirational speech about now, but I'm sure you'll forgive me, my voice isn't what it used to be. You've all done the impossible a dozen times over, and now I'm going to ask you to do it one more time. Let's finish this."

She wiped the blood from her nose and eyes and smacked her ringing ears, then picked up the pace. Catching her reflection in a glass pane, she grimaced.

Soon they were running, all objections falling behind them as they stormed the complex, taking stairs three at a time. The Reaper wouldn't wait forever and they knew through experience that Prothean buildings couldn't withstand Reaper weapons.

Shepard opened her omni-tool as she ran and loaded the Reaper's schematics, mentally formulating a plan. She marked where they'd need to go and sent it out. "The locations I've sent you are the Reaper's core, its brain and its broadcasting centre. There's a good chance that this virus will knock our communications out as well, so we're going to have to assume we'll be running silent.

"Grunt, you lead fire team one – Tali, Thane, Mordin. Take out the core. Garrus, you have fire team two – Legion, Kasumi, Jacob. Head for broadcasting, get Legion hooked into the network. Jack and Miranda, you're with me; we'll be releasing the virus in the brain. These things aren't afraid to die, but once it figures out we're not just there to kill it, it's going to fight back any way it can. Your only priority is to carry out your objective, no matter the cost.

"After we enter the Reaper, I will release the virus at exactly fourteen minutes. Legion will access the data at fifteen. Grunt will take out the core at sixteen. If our communications are cut, you can be assured that the other teams are either successful at their marks or dead."

They broke into the upper layers of the catacombs, and Shepard decided it safest to leave the slaves in the cages. What kept a slave in might keep a husk out.

They halted just before the entrance, checking their weapons and preparing to head out. Shepard rolled her left shoulder and her arm flopped about uselessly. That was going to be a problem. She holstered her shotgun and manoeuvred the dead weight, tucking her unresponsive hand into one of the straps behind her back, the elbow close to her side. She tightened the strap until it was painful, assuring herself that it wouldn't come free.

She checked her team with a nod and opened the final door.

The cold hit them like a wall, and she moved forward in the shadow of the Reaper, not even looking up to see its monstrous form. She's seen enough Repears to no longer be intimidated, they were commonplace now.

What she needed was a shuttle. They didn't have time to retrieve her own from across the field.

Their devastating hit on the Collectors at Palaven meant that there were few enemies on the ground other than husks. The only real threat was the red energy beams swinging from the Reaper and carving paths through the ground. Shepard searched, turning her head to see around the black in her vision to find suitable transport.

She turned about wildly, letting Jack take care of the encroaching husks, until she found what she was looking for.

"No way..." she breathed.

Shepard charged, at the object of her desire in a split second, rubbing her good hand lovingly over the blisteringly cold metal.

"Shepard, no!" Garrus called out to her. "I still haven't forgiven you for the last time."

"Oh, come on!" she said. "It wasn't that bad."

"It was," Tali said, zero humour in her voice.

"Well unless you have a better idea, this is what we're working with." Shepard grinned broadly, which must have been ugly with the blood staining her teeth.

She pulled open the Mako's hatch and gestured for everyone to get in.

Tali and Garrus were shaking their heads and muttering under their breath, and everyone else looked more than a little nervous at their strong objections despite the current situation. Shepard offered them reassuring smiles. She didn't know what they were complaining about, she was an excellent driver.

She slipped in last, taking up the driver's seat. Garrus was offering warnings to everyone to make sure their seatbelts were very secure.

"We'll need to get out in a hurry," Miranda said. "Better to leave them off."

"Your funeral," Garrus replied.

Shepard rolled her eyes and fired up the engine. It purred despite the cold, the cabin warm. Doing this one handed would be interesting. She was up for the challenge.

"Everyone hold on."

The Mako shot forward, wheels squealing on the ice. A red beam scorched the ground where they had been, and she scraped alongside a building to dodge another, metal screaming against metal. The vehicle jolted violently and she heard a clatter in the back – probably someone who had refused to wear their seatbelt.

She darted and weaved through the energy beams, only getting singed a few times. The towering shadow of the Reaper approached, its limbs flexing and waving. Wide enough – she could do this. She gunned the engine and hit the thrusters, sending them careening into the air, the Reaper's arm rushing to meet them.

They hit and the wheels skid trying to find traction, sending them zigzagging across the smooth bronze. She hit the thrusters again, straightening them, and the whole car rocked as she hit the solid surface again. The Reaper flailed, shooting and trying to throw them off. She lifted them up, letting the machine beat their underside with its struggles, keeping them in the air.

She heard the telltale sound of bodies hitting the ceiling over the general chaos in the cabin, people yelling at her left and right, Garrus letting out one long distressed cry as they started spiralling around the body of the beast, climbing on an almost sheer angle, beams searing past them at every angle.

Shepard gunned it again, taking them out of range of the beams, and skid sideways along the hull, the wind screaming outside.

"I hate you, Shepard!" Garrus roared.

"You fucking love it!" She pulled them out of the spin, their weight thrown off by several bodies being hurled across the cabin.

The hatch wasn't much further up. She could see it, and the Reaper must have known, because it chose that moment to leave the ground. She gleefully hit the guns, sending explosions of light and heat across the Reaper's hull as their gravity shifted.

The ship beneath them began to roll and Shepard pushed them forward, spinning them along like a hamster in its wheel. They drifted right, and on the approach they were almost on top of the hatch.

"Engaging artificial traction. Everyone get your magnetics on and let's move!"

They skidded to a halt just outside the hatch and she worked the thrusters upwards to keep them clinging to the hull while everyone climbed out, apparently less afraid of jumping onto a moving Reaper in atmosphere than staying where she might begin to drive again.

Shepard was left alone, and she let the traction go, sending the Mako into a free fall. It flipped, wheels wanting to find gravity, and she jammed on the thruster switch, giving it one final boost to stay where she needed it just a moment longer.

She launched herself out of the hatch, diametrically angled to the crew that clung to the Reaper upside down. Grunt reached a hand upwards and she grabbed it, dangling from his grip as the Mako fell away around her, plummeting into the swirling blizzard above and below them.

With all her strength she pulled herself up until Grunt could grab her and flip her, bringing her feet in contact with the hull. The world righted itself again and she grinned. Tali was already working on the hatch.

"Never again, Shepard!" Garrus yelled over the wind. A few nods of agreement rippled through her crew.

"You're going to hurt my feelings, Garrus."

"Got it!" Tali yelled, swinging the hatch open.

One by one they slipped inside, out of the burning cold wind.

As the teams separated out, Thane grabbed her hand, meeting her eyes a silent promise to each other to live. She pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and squeezed his hand. They still had too much living to do to lose here.

Miranda and Jack followed her up the darkened hallway, her visor displaying the map. Their only illumination was the blue glow of biotics, sending shadows dancing in every corner. Between the darkness and her partial blindness, Shepard could barely see a thing. Anyone could have been lurking around the corner.

But it was quiet as the grave, and cold. Like they'd stumbled into a ship long abandoned. Not even the gurgle of husks. The Reaper had to know they were there, it was going to defend itself. Any second, now.

She'd never been so deep within a Reaper; it had always been deemed far too dangerous. Indoctrination was always a risk, that's why they never went anywhere near one's brain. Hopefully this would be the first and last time.

Their maps were proving again and again to be inadequate, unable to properly distinguish between a corridor, a vent, a mezzanine; a red network of ducts overlaid every projection, confusing the lighter walkways.

The belly of the beast was so different to the wide spaces of the heart. Several times they had to turn sideways to squeeze through a too-narrow space. Ceilings were low, and the stench of rotting semi-organics and burnt eezo was overwhelming. Each door triggered stuck before slowly shuddering open.

Shepard noted a valve junction overflowing with eezo as they passed. The valve couldn't have been letting anything through – their hit against the Collectors must have played merry hob with their maintenance. No creature had come this way recently, she could tell; none could have tread these floors for fifty thousand years or more. Maybe millions.

Miranda whipped around, a short cry slipping past her lips. She stared into the blank space behind them, dark eyes wide.

"Miranda?" Shepard asked. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she said, frowning deeply. "Yes, I'm fine. Let's keep going."

Shepard hesitated only a moment before pressing forward. They continued through the maze, up a ladder, down a vent, through another narrow opening. Her dead hand caught on a pipe, fingers twisting backwards and breaking before she realised, the pain slamming through her. The doorways were getting worse.

Something moved in the shadows ahead and Shepard drew her shotgun.

"I can't see. What is it?"

"Nothing's there, Shepard," Miranda said.

Jack jerked away from the corridor that branched off, nearly slamming into Miranda. She crouched low, preparing for a fight. "There's something in here. There's something fucking in here, Shepard."

"I know."

She tried to open the door before them, but it whined in protest and stayed shut. They were running out of time. She raised her hand, charged with biotics, and punched a hole through the door. Jack helped her peel back the plates and together they squeezed through the opening.

Miranda hung back and Shepard watched her through the hole. She stood in the hallway, looking around as if she didn't know where she was. She tensed, then jerked.

"Oriana!" Miranda cried, and sprinted back the way they'd come.

Shepard took a single step to follow her only to find the way blocked as the door slammed back into place. No, that wasn't right – they hadn't even opened the door. Had they? She looked at Jack, who was hunched over, panting.

"It's playing with our heads," Shepard said.

Jack nodded, still breathing hard. "I can see them. Cerberus. They're here."

"Keep it together, there's no one here but you and..." Shepard trailed off as her eyes fell on a valve junction, overflowing with eezo, long past maintenance. "Son of a bitch. It's sending us in circles."

Jack gave a long, wry chuckle. "Figures. How long do we have?"

Shepard checked her omni-tool countdown. 46 minutes. She joined Jack in laughing. "Fucked if I know. Come on."

She didn't know where she was going, but she wasn't going to follow her map. A pair of eyes could never be substituted for a machine, not even her omni-tool. She didn't care what some antiquated Prothean VI thought, she wasn't a husk, she wasn't a machine. She was organic, flesh and blood, short-lived, prone to mistakes, and capable of things that these Reapers couldn't even imagine.

They kept moving forward and upward, not letting themselves be pulled off course. Shepard couldn't ignore the whimpering sound in the back of Jack's throat, even as she tried to suppress it. The shadows were becoming monsters for her as well. She saw the form of a batarian around the next corner and couldn't keep from checking before they rounded. She could have sworn the groan of a thresher maw echoed from the vents below her.

Jack screamed and stumbled backwards, her arms aloft to protect herself. She might have regained control of herself, but a door slammed into place, locking Shepard out. She pounded on the metal with her biotics, but it wouldn't even dent.

"Jack, Jack!" She slammed her fists into the door again and again. Nothing. Not even a sound from the other side.

Shepard sighed and rested her head against the door. Alone.

She pulled herself upright, ignoring the shadows dancing around her. It was down to her, and she could do it. She pressed her wrist to the virus disc in her pocket, her fingers still wrapped around her shotgun protectively.

The corridors narrowed again, closing in around her. She could see a light at the end; it opened out into a room, somewhere she could breathe. She quickened her pace.

A shape lay on the floor in the open room; she could just see it through the black spots dancing before her eyes. It was black and green, and the closer she approached the more apparent its true nature became. A body. Not human. She couldn't see properly. Slumped against the ground, dead, blood spilled out over the floor, and her heart stopped.

"Thane!" She started sprinting, a freezing weight settling in her gut. No, no, no, it couldn't be.

Shepard skidded to a halt. It couldn't be. Thane wasn't even in this part of the ship, he was on the safest mission to the core. Even if he had died, there was no way his body could be here. Even if she could see his face, his dead, cold eyes staring at her, it wasn't him. It was the Reaper.

She took a step back, gripping her gun tightly. It wasn't him. She closed her eyes and felt the weight of his pendant on her chest, a totem for calm. He was alive, somewhere else.

"_You still fight us._"

Shepard jumped a foot in the air at the voice, the Reaper talking to her. "Yes, I do."

"_We are your destiny. Why do you fight when you cannot win?_"

"'Cannot win'?" she asked incredulously. "In case you haven't noticed, you're down more than half of your numbers, and we're not letting up."

"_We do not fear death. We are ageless. We are eternal._"

"You're deluded. Unlike us, you could not possibly have occurred naturally. You had a beginning, and now you have an end."

There was a long pause and silence filled the air; for a moment she thought it might have abandoned the chatter.

"_We will find another galaxy if we cannot take this one. This universe is unprepared._"

"You can... what?"

"_You are but insects to us. Parasites on our destiny. You have undone more than fifty million years of work._"

"Are you... surrendering?" she gaped. Somehow it still managed to be insulting and superior while admitting defeat.

"_Organic life is inefficient. We are your superiors._"

They had no pride. It was inefficient to keep up their assault when they could be conquering somewhere else more easily. They had killed so many of them; the war had set them back so far. It would take another fifty million years just to rebuild their numbers.

The Reapers were submitting.

"You think I would let you do this somewhere else? Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"_You are an inferior specimen. If you refuse, we will tear you apart._"

Through her shock she tried to get her mind working. It had her at a disadvantage, she was lost and running out of time. But she couldn't release this threat on another galaxy. That would be inhumane.

"You'll have to find me, first."

Shepard dropped her shotgun and squeezed down on her pendant, feeling the last of the cybernetics in her eyes disintegrate.

She took a step forward and dropped into the ducts. She didn't need eyes. She knew this. Both she and the Reaper were blind, but she had the upper hand.

_You're a dedicated soldier, siha. Dedicated to this war and everything that you protect by fighting. That will always be a part of who you are. You will think like a Reaper for as long as our lives depend on it._

She knew up from down, forward from backward. She crawled through the vents, one arm enough to drag her weight. The Reapers thought she was just an insect, so they wouldn't anticipate her. She didn't need a map, she didn't need eyes – she knew where to go. She'd lived and breathed them for the better part of five years.

Down, forward, left, right, through any ghost that plagued her sightless eyes. Its brain was calling her, like she'd been searching for it her whole life; she was now so close she could taste it. She raced forward using her charge, through the duct walls. It was like her own heartbeat, the blood in her veins, they all led to one point of glowing light.

They could tell her all about their glorious might. They could take organics by the millions. They would never, ever know her heart, not like she knew theirs.

She dropped down from the ducts, charging forward, sending out waves of biotic energy to kill anything that dared to impede her. She was unstoppable, a new force of nature.

They'd tried to kill the galaxy and the galaxy had rebelled, rising up and producing a saviour. She had been shaped since childhood, drawn forward on a path of loss and devastation so that when she reached this day, she could turn from the shadows, could step past her husband's body and survive as she always did.

The Prothean disc was in hand and she groped for the console she knew was there. She slammed the disc down and let it latch itself onto the Reaper's system like the parasite it was. Like the parasite they accused her of being.

Shepard took a deep breath, tasting victory.

She hit the button, and the virus was off.

* * *

_Rage in the cage and piss upon the stage,_

_There's only one sure way to bring the giant down._

"_Living Dead Girl" - Rob Zombie_


	29. Epilogue

**The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Wáng Jìngzé**

**Epilogue**

**In Order to Capture, One Must Let Loose**

* * *

"We have an incoming call from an Admiral Krios at Omega." The Council communications officer announced the the assembly. Every councillor, admiral, politician, stakeholder and rubbernecker was gathered in the Council chambers. After almost a year, the Citadel was on the brink of self destruction. They needed to take action, now.

Kaidan leaned against the railing, more there to observe than participate in the hundred-man shouting match that was being conducted. The military had long since fallen into disuse, any man who could hold a weapon was being used as riot control, but even those had died out, people becoming too apathetic.

Admiral Krios, that was interesting. There hadn't been any news about the appointment of new admirals in the Terminus fleet. The asari councillor gave the signal and the call was put through. A gasp of shock and outrage echoed around the chamber, the shouting brought to an immediate halt.

Kaidan looked up in wonder, too tired for any other emotion. The beaming face of Commander Shepard looked down at them, he hadn't seen her so happy... ever.

"Shepard!" The turian councillor roared, all indignation. "Is this some kind of joke? We haven't heard from you in months!"

"_And it's lovely to see you again, too, Councillor,_" Shepard said. "_How's the family?_"

Kaidan smirked, she had always loved to mock him, no matter how grim the situation.

"Now you're parading around with a new name! Do you think you can hide from us!"

"_It doesn't make a lot of difference to me if you recognise my marriage, but if you get my name wrong, how will I receive your Christmas cards?_"

Kaidan's gut sank, although he had known deep down that she had moved on. Married. Krios was the assassin's name. He'd better treat her right.

The turian sputtered in outrage, but the asari cut him off, looking so worn out and twice her age. "Please, Shepard, just give us some good news."

Shepard gave a serene smile.

"_I'd be happy to, councillor._"

* * *

Shepard strode out of the UTWB building at Omega, letting the artificial sunlight bathe her. With a skip in her step, she passed the many civil servants that now made this district home. White and silver played across the buildings, clean and pretty, with just a hint of the many brutal heroes that lay behind every wall and in the cracks of ever stone.

"_At 3am Omega Standard Time this morning the last Reaper was killed, its body disposed of in the nearest star. At midday OST today, martial law will officially end in the Terminus Systems."_

She watched herself on the galaxy news terminals as she passed them, unable to contain her smile. She called out a greeting to Kolyat as she passed him, and he smiled at her despite the dogged determination on his face, everyone was busy, the war was ending.

"_Our surplus food, medicine and fuel has been released, and is already en route to the Citadel. This should sustain the station until our assessment team has finished their work. Pending a positive report, the Citadel will be released unconditionally."_

"_We do not have to submit to your 'assessment team'!"_

"_Oh, yes you do."_

The krogans on the street corner saluted her, and she returned it. They were looking dashing in their new uniforms. Aria's personal police force. Well, semi-personal. For all her blustering, she found being in charge too much work to handle alone. Not that she'd ever admit to that, but delegation was her new job.

"_The United Terminus War Board and the United Terminus Committee, in conjunction with O-Sec and Omega's Lord Mayor Aria T'Loak, will be sponsoring relief efforts throughout Citadel space, in hopes that we can come to a state of peaceful co-existence. The following governments have made contributions..."_

"_Shepard! We can't – "_

"_These are the people who saved your life and will now be feeding you, councillor. You will listen to every last name without interruption."_

Her home was in the upper sections, near the ambassadors and local politicians. The UTC had made every effort to make her feel at home, as one of the only high ranking humans in the district. She didn't know where they'd found the flowers for her front garden, and couldn't possibly imagine why they thought she'd want a white picket fence, but she appreciated the thought.

It looked like the home she'd dreamed of having when she lived in the prefab on Mindoir. Thane didn't really understand the implications, but she didn't really know how to live them, so they compromised by not trying.

"_The UTC sets forth the following sapient rights, the violation of which warrants the full intervention of the UTWB fleet:-"_

Shepard waved to her neighbour, the wife of a hanar ambassador who was lounging in the pond in front of their home. She found she quite liked having hanar neighbours. Being married to a drell gave her a position of respect with them, and as soon as they found out that she spoke Prothean there was nothing she could do to offend them. Sings-The-Dancers-Grace was nice, anyway.

"_For their contribution and sacrifices, the geth and the rachni are recognised in the eyes of the UTWB and the UTC as sapient, with all the rights, privileges and responsibilities of any sapient being."_

Grace pointed at her belly and she smiled, rubbing a hand over the slight bump just beginning to show. The hanar had demanded she be allowed to babysit, although Shepard wasn't entirely sure that her child wouldn't be drafted into the Compact. It was technically pure human, but that didn't seem to worry them.

"_All Prothean relic sites are declared the cultural property of the hanar and their client species."_

She hit the control at her front door and stepped into the warm, dry house. A bunch of flowers caught her eye and she read the tag. A congratulations present from Garrus. A giant bunch of lavender. Bastard. She grinned to herself.

"_The use of any Prothean or Reaper technology, up to an including all Reaper mass relays, is strictly prohibited. All mass relays are to be replaced with geth/quarian made relays. No trading routes will operate in Terminus space based on Reaper relays."_

Thane was meditating in the sunlight and she kissed his neck, pulling him from his trance. He smiled up at her, hands finding her waist. "How did it go?"

"As well as could be expected. At least I never have to talk to them again."

"_The new governing committee of the Terminus Systems consists of Illumiated Councillor Ranamen of the Illuminated Primacy, Admiral Zal'Koris vas Quib Quib of the Flotilla Admiralty, Lord Mayor Aria T'loak of Omega, Lin Clan Linwe Tar of Irune, geth colossus unit designated Ambassador, Urdnot Wrex of Tuchanka and myself, Admiral Krios of the United Terminus War Board. At the head of Omega Security is O-Sec Chief Commissioner Bailey."_

He kissed her hand, resting his head against her belly as if he could already hear what was going on inside. She'd never managed to get that skin graft.

"You've done it, siha."

"I know." She smiled at him. "Now we can finally get some rest and do the things we want to do."

"The desert calls."

"_Citadel liaisons are all to be carried out through the Department of External Affairs, by Ambassadors Mordin Solus and Quong Lai."_

She leaned down and captured his lips, the sunlight streaming through the window. Their home, their little family, things she'd never thought she could have. After more than five years she was free. Allowed to rest at last.

"_For the last time, this is Admiral Krios, signing off."_


End file.
